A New Tide
by Shady-777
Summary: FINISHED! Wesker's company is on the verge of causing a major catastrophe. Alfred and Alexia have been resurrected, Chris & Claire find an ally in Wesker's son. Plenty of old characters, some new. Too much more to summarize. Read and find out!
1. A Mysterious Phone Call

****

( Author's note: In one of my reviews for this chapter, it was brought to my attention by a sharp-eyed reviewer the fact that the reviewer thought Chris and Claire's parents were dead. This scenario is certainly indicated in S.D. Perry's novels. However, I not only own, but have played and beaten every version of every Resident Evil game to date, and not once did I hear the Redfields' parents even mentioned. Therefore, according to the games, their fate is unknown. I write based on the game-universe, and though I try to stick as close to the games as possible, readers familiar with S.D. Perry's novels will find that my fic differs from those books in many aspects. )

( Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of it's characters. )

Chapter One

Chris Redfield sighed as he pulled the blankets as far as they would go up to his neck. It had been over two weeks since the Antarctic incident. But the nightmares still came. Horrible images of nasty creatures that belonged in some Hell dimension, not here on Earth. But Chris knew better.

Such things were real. He'd seen them, fought them, nearly been killed by them on far too many occasions to count. Huge, slimy green apes that looked like skinned, mutated gorillas. Devil-dogs that ran around with dead, mutating bodies still rotting and dropping flesh. Humans made zombies by an incredible virus. And a smorgasbord of other hellish creatures Chris couldn't even begin to classify.

But they all had at least one thing in common: an insatiable thirst for the kill.

And although the main facilities where the viruses had leaked had been destroyed, and although most of the zombies and beasts had been destroyed, Chris couldn't help but feel it was far from over. 

Umbrella was still out there. _Wesker _was still out there. And whichever 'new' company he had sold his soul to. 

Somehow, he doubted it was Disney.

And just knowing such things made him edgy, nervous. Umbrella and all evils associated with it had to go down. Soon.

Until that happened, he would never truly be able to rest.

From it's wooden perch on the dresser next to his bed, Chris's alarm clock barked it's usual cheery greeting. He instinctively shot his arm out and quickly silenced the unwelcome sound. 7am already. Where did the time go?

Right now, all he truly wanted was silence, a place to escape. Perhaps a little more sleep…

__

Right, so I can continue those wonderful dreams where I'm being chased by ravenous zombies, monsters, and giant snakes. Chris thought sarcastically.

He decided to get up. 

Chris had barely pulled his pants on when he heard a light tapping on the door to his room.

" You getting ready, Chris? Alan expects us to show around eight-o-clock." Claire's voice poured from the other side of the door.

" Just a minute," Chris replied groggily. Then, in a much quieter tone, he added, "Don't see why he insisted on meeting us so friggen early for, anyway."

" Okay, I'll be waiting for you out in the car. Crystal Lake is a long drive, you know. It'll probably take us a good thirty, thirty-five minutes to get there."

Chris could hear her retreating footsteps in the hall.

After the Antarctic incident, Chris and his sister Claire had taken into hiding. They knew that Umbrella wasn't through with them, and they didn't plan on making it easy for their foes to find them.

That's why they had rented a 2-bedroom apartment in the small town of , Sunnyvale, California. They had both agreed it was too dangerous to go home just yet and risk the very real possibility of walking into a trap. They had needed a place to stay where they could sort of…recuperate. At least until the time came for a counterattack. Claire was still hoping to save Steve.

And if he was still alive, Chris could only pray for the young man who had helped his sister out when he hadn't been there to look out for her. 

*************

Claire grabbed the keys to the blue truck and headed out the door. Outside a gray morning mist shrouded the parking lot and she could hear the calls of the robins and crows just getting a start on the day; filling the skies with their piercing melodies. The air was cool and crisp on Claire's face, and she inhaled deeply.

So much better than the foul stench of rotting flesh she'd come to know and hate. 

But, as Claire scrambled into the truck, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Her and Chris hadn't told anyone except the other S.T.A.R.S. members the information about their new lodgings. Not even their parents. 

So how was it that a complete stranger was able to get ahold of their phone number and call in the middle of the night last night?

Stranger still, this Mystery Guy had known their names. He even knew of Umbrella's viral accidents and the unleashing of the T-Virus in Raccoon City as well as Rockfort and the Antarctic base.

Claire had answered the unusual phone call. The voice on the other end had belonged to a frantic young man babbling something about monsters and viruses. He hadn't said much, except that he had information on a new company that was on the brink of unleashing another disaster: this one on a scale of catastrophic proportions. Claire had tried to get the details out of him over the phone, but he had refused to yield anymore information than the fact that the situation was serious and he would fill them in on the facts at Crystal Lake. He seemed to think that it was terribly important that the Redfields meet him there to discuss the threat. And he wanted to do it immediately. Other than that, the only other information he could supply them with was his name: Alan.

No last name.

No nothing. 

More than a little suspicious, to say the least. But he had sounded so desperate…and since he wanted to meet in a well-used park surrounded by people and buildings in broad daylight, it didn't seem particularly risky. But…there _was_ a possibility, however small, that this was a trap.

The truck started after a few turns of the key and Claire hopped into the passenger's seat, reloading her trusty Beretta and carefully slipping it into the pocket of her jeans in such a way that it would not be easily noticed. She did not want to be caught off guard should the situation turn ugly. 

If her experiences in Raccoon and Rockfort had taught her anything, it was to always be prepared. 

Then she rearranged her pony-tail while looking in the rearview mirror and waited for Chris.

She didn't have long to wait.

He came jogging up and almost threw himself into the vehicle.

Claire gave a little smile. " Aren't you in a hurry all of a sudden?"

Chris gave a halfhearted sideways grin and put the truck into gear.

" I'm just anxious to find out what this is all about. You know, we could really use the inside scoop for once before a disaster blows up in our faces."

" Yes, that would definitely be an improvement over the usual run-panic-and-shoot that usually happens when we get too involved in secret conspiracies. Now we can run-panic-and-hopefully-take-out-the-bad-guys-before-they-unlease-the-super-monster-on-us. It'll be a nice change. If I'm going to be running for my life, I want to be running in the right direction."

Chris chuckled a bit, but his humor almost seemed forced. And she knew why.

Fighting bio-organic-weapons---or B.O.W.s, as Umbrella's scientists called them---was a very serious matter. And it was a struggle for your life.

Umbrella and their monsters didn't care if you were an innocent bystander. They didn't care if you didn't want to be involved. They didn't care much about anything. And that was what made them so dangerous.

" So, maybe we can stop by a mini-mart somewhere and grab breakfast?" Claire suggested brightly, hoping to turn the conversation to something less morbid.

" You're on." Chris agreed. 


	2. Meeting At the Lake

****

Chapter Two

Alan Wesker stood near the entrance to Crystal Lake, watching and waiting for the Redfields to arrive.

Alan was eighteen years old with fluffy, blonde hair and sparkling blue-green eyes that were usually hidden beneath snappy shades. He was thin, well-proportioned, and looked a lot like a younger version of his father, Albert Wesker. So much, in fact, that a few people who hadn't seen Wesker for awhile and who hadn't gotten that close of a look at Alan had mistaken him for his dad.

A lot of the girls at school had thought he was cute. Handsome, even.

But as he waited, Alan thought his looks to be a bit of a setback.

__

If they knew I was Wesker's son, they'd never listen to me. Alan thought sadly. Of the things he knew about Chris and Claire, their hatred for Wesker was evident. He knew Wesker had betrayed the S.T.A.R.S. and nearly gotten them killed. More recently, he knew that his dad had tried again to kill Chris at the Antarctic base. Wesker hated Chris beyond the telling of it. They didn't need to be reminded of that when Alan told them the news.

That's why he had decided to keep his true identity a mystery to them. A lot depended on them trusting him.

Today, he was dressed in a navy-blue shirt that was obscured slightly from view by a black leather jacket. The rest of his attire consisted of dark-blue name brand jeans, combat boots, and sunglasses. Like Wesker, Alan usually preferred black, but today was not the day for it.

_I'd better take these off now. _He thought, remembering his shades.

He slipped them into his pocket and continued his watch, hoping they'd arrive soon.

Since his father had been Captain of S.T.A.R.S., Alan had a pretty good idea of what Chris looked like from group pictures.

He didn't know what Claire looked like, exactly, but he figured she'd be with her brother.

In the park, an elderly couple were taking a walk. Ducks quacked and splashed in the lake not far from where he was standing. A well-toned man was swimming laps. A dog barked from somewhere.

But there was no sign of any ex-S.T.A.R.S. members.

Alan was starting to get anxious.

***************

" Well, this is the place." Chris stated as their truck pulled into the parking lot for Crystal Lake, " What do you think this is all about? "

" Hard telling. I just hope we can find Alan easily. He didn't exactly describe himself on the phone."

" Figures." Chris muttered. Mystery phone-callers almost never did. In the movies, anyway. He'd seen plenty of horror movies to know that his life was like one. 

_Yesiree…just one long horror film--that's my life. _Chris thought darkly, _I almost expected to hear Claire say the caller had said 'I know what you did' last night. Creepy._

Chris stepped out of truck and looked around the park. The morning haze was just starting to go away, and he had an almost unobstructed view of the lake. There weren't many trees around. In fact, there weren't many people around. But he did see one young man standing alone out by the lake. Alan, Perhaps?

He started for the lake, Claire at his side.

The man noticed them before they'd gotten halfway to him and smiled warmly, allowing them to approach.

Chris's heart lurched. 

Yep. This was the guy.

" Greetings Chris. Claire. I see you got my call." Alan said calmly, " I'm Alan."

Alan extended his hand, and Chris wasn't sure if he wanted to shake it or not. His eyes fell on Alan's face. There was something so…familiar about him. In fact, he kind of looked like Wesker.

" Claire." Claire greeted warmly enough. She grabbed Alan's hand in a shake.

__

Nah, there's gotta be tons of guys out there that look kinda like Wesker. I'm just getting too jumpy, that's all. Grasping at straws. Just because Alan looks a bit like Wesker doesn't mean they're connected. Get a grip. Chris told himself.

_Still… _

" Chris." He shook Alan's hand briefly. " Now, let's get down to business. Why did you want to meet us here? And how did you get our number?"

Alan's smile evaporated. He let go of Chris's hand and looked down, almost as if he were ashamed of something,

" Listen, HCF is planning on releasing a special form of T-virus on a major city sometime within the next day or so. It's an airborne form, therefore extra dangerous. They are going to use the ensuing disaster as an example to make demands on the U.S. government."

Chris's mind went numb. This was terrible! An airborne virus could spread fast enough to infect several cities before it could be contained. The effects would be catastrophic. Thousand, possibly millions of people and animals turned into zombies. He suddenly felt sick. He had to stop it somehow.

" Demands?" Claire frowned, worry written all over her pretty face. " What kind of demands?" 

Alan shrugged. " I don't know: money? Power? I'm not too clear on that part exactly…"

" What's HCF? " Chris inquired, not sure he really wanted to know.

" They're no better than Umbrella, that's what!" 

Chris nearly jumped back, unprepared for the immense anger in Alan's voice.

" I don't know too much about them, except that they're a rival company to Umbrella. Apparently, they've been competing with them on the less legal levels, too. Look, I heard about your little ' adventures' in the Spencer mansion and Rockfort as well as Antarctica. I thought to myself-- if anyone can help me stop this, I'll bet Chris Redfield can. Anyone who can survive for as long as you did against such odds…"

" Hey! I survived those odds too!" Claire cut in. She turned to Chris defiantly. " Before you tell me 'no', I'm going with you. Don't even think about trying to stop me. Yeah, I know it'll be dangerous, but guess what? Now that Wesker and probably even Umbrella are after us, I won't be safe _anywhere. _Not until this is over."

Chris just sighed, his expression full of emotion, his voice strained. "Claire…"

" I'm not a kid anymore." Claire said softly. " I promise…I wont die."

Chris arched an eyebrow, stunned. " How could you possibly make a promise like that? " 

Claire gave a half-smile. " Hey, the way I look at it, what are you going to do to me if I _break_ my promise? " She teased. " No, really. I'm already a part of this, Chris. I'm going to help put a stop to it. Anyway…" She turned to Alan, " Do you know where this HCF base is?"

Alan nodded. "Yeah. I have a…friend who works there. It's an island kind of like Rockfort just off the Florida Keys. I don't know it's name, but I have the coordinates."

Chris sighed. Islands again. Great. Right up his ally. _Of course, my ally is a little darker than most people's. _He thought bitterly.

" So. Do you have a…way to get to this island? " Claire asked the teenager.

Alan brightened. " Sure! My…friend who works at HCF wants to stop this just as much as I do. But…HCF has him working in another location right now, and they're no nicer than Umbrella with their employees when it comes to double-crossing. He can't do much, but he did lend me his personal jet. He had a pilot park in in the landing strip about a mile from here. Only…the pilot never returned. And I don't exactly know how to fly aircraft. Another reason I needed you, Chris. I heard you used to be in the air force."

" That's true." Chris agreed, " I'm pretty good with planes and jets, but…how did you know that? Have you been spying on me or something? "

Alan looked uncomfortable. " Well…not exactly. You see, I was a friend of Enrico Marini's. He told me quite a bit about some of the S.T.A.R.S. Seemed to me he was a good friend of yours."

Chris's heart sank. " Enrico." He said quietly. " Funny, he never mentioned you. Are you aware of…what happened to him? "

Alan frowned. " I know that he died. In the Spencer mansion."

_Is it just me, or is Alan getting a bit shifty all of a sudden? _Chris thought the boy looked like he was about to bolt. Almost as if…_almost as if he's hiding something._

Chris studied his sister to see what she made of it. 

__

Her expression was calm, but he knew her well enough to see the doubt hidden in her eyes. Alan was acting kinda weird.

" How'd you know where we were? " Claire asked skeptically.

Alan fidgeted a bit, the question catching him off-guard.

" Look, I just heard a few people say a few things, alright? One of them had your number. How he got, I don't know. I didn't ask…these people were acting kind of strange and I didn't want to stick around them too long."

" Strange? " Chris and Claire echoed in unison.

" Keeping to the shadows a lot, muttering some things I didn't quite understand--not the trustworthy type, if you know what I mean. They were saying something about S.T.A.R.S. when I came in, and when I mentioned wanting to find you, they gave me your number. I don't want to frighten you, but I don't think you should stay…wherever you're staying much longer. Those dudes looked creepy."

__

Someone's found us! Chris thought nervously_, and if they know our number, they probably know where we live…they could come in and attack us anytime, even the middle of the night…_Images of him and Claire being shot in their beds flooded his mind. 

" Right. Thanks for warning us." Claire said.

" We'll take care of that after we take care of HCF. So, this jet--can you lead us there? " 

" Oh, sure! Just follow me, I'll be in the little red Oldsmobile. " Alan replied, sounding much more happy and self-confident than he had only moments ago.

" We'll be in the blue truck." Chris verified.

With that, the trio split up to their separate vehicles.

****************

Claire was feeling more than a bit uncomfortable about the whole situation. Airborne viruses, Umbrella-like facilities, weirdos knowing her address, and Alan. It was all, well, unbelievable. And Alan had seemed a bit strange himself.

As the truck clanked down an old dirt road following Alan's car, she couldn't help but wonder. Wesker said he had sold his soul to a new organization. Could that organization be HCF? It was very possible. And if that were true, then maybe they had Steve! Maybe she and Chris would be able to rescue him, if he were still alive.

_But he will be, he has to be…_

" Chris, do you think HCF is the new company Wesker is involved with? " Claire asked her brother.

Chris had been strangely quiet for the few minutes they'd been on the road, but the question seemed to snap him out of his thoughts. " Could be. Speaking of Wesker, did you notice how much Alan looks like him? "

_Come to think of it, yeah. Alan does resemble Wesker. Connection? _Claire's mind wondered. She'd only met Wesker twice, but that had been enough to know she didn't want anything to do with him. He was a horrible, evil man. Even worse, he seemed to crave the destruction of the Redfields. 

" Yeah, he does look like Wesker. " Claire agreed, " And he's been acting like…I don't know, like he has something to hide. We should watch him."

" What's bothering me, " Chris explained, " Is that his story really doesn't add up in places. He said he knew Enrico, but Enrico never once mentioned him to me. He also said Enrico had told him about me and the S.T.A.R.S. But how did he know about Rockfort? And Antarctica? And how did he learn of Enrico's death? "

Claire shrugged, thoughtful. " I suppose he could've learned about Enrico through the papers, but that wouldn't explain Rockfort and Antarctica. Also, he must have some friend to loan him a jet. It is a bit odd."

" Definitely." Chris agreed. " Just…watch yourself around him, okay? We really don't know much about him."

" Don't worry." Claire assured, " I'll be careful not to trust him too much. It'll be easy, since he reminds me of you-know-who."

Chris didn't even look up from the road. " Yeah, well, I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of Wesker. We have to be careful now more than ever. Especially if our hunches are correct."

***************

The warm Artic sun, shone down on a disaster.

All around Alexia lay debris. Broken concrete, twisted metal, and splintered wood were strewn about everywhere like some powerful bomb had went off and decimated everything in it's path. 

Which was what, Alexia supposed, had happened. 

The only things standing were the riddled and crumbling pillars and walls of what once was the Antarctic base.

Alexia struggled up from her nest among the rubble, her mind swimming. How had this happened? How had she gotten here? And…Alexia looked down at her now human self clothed in the same dress she'd worn that fateful evening back…how long ago? How much time had passed, anyway?

_The last thing I remember was fighting Chris…he had something, was it a rocket launcher? Did I…did I die?_

From somewhere besides her, there was a moan. 

Alexia's head snapped in the direction of the sound. Some rubble moved, and a familiar figure rose up from the debris clad in a red uniform tinge with gold.

She couldn't believe it.

" Alfred?! " 

Alfred rose up from the heavy wood and metal where he'd been laying. He didn't look very happy.

Alexia ran over to him and helped him up. Now she was sure something was going on. Alfred had been dead. She remembered singing to his lifeless body. She remembered how satisfied she'd been when she had caught and injected that loathsome Steve with her virus. 

Alexia frowned at the thought. How sad she had not been able to stay there and observe Steve, to see how the virus affected his body. 

But no, she had been a little too busy taking care of those cursed intruders to have any time for such luxuries.

" Ah…Alexia. You're awake." Alfred commented, choking a bit on some dust. He locked eyes with Alexia.

" Yes, brother. How astonishingly perceptive of you." Alexia muttered, a little irked by Alfred's comment.

She watched as Alfred looked around, taking in the full concept of the damage that had been done to their facility. 

" Holy Hell! " He mumbled once the full extent of the damage hit home, " What happened here?!? " Then, " Wait a minute, how did I end up here? I was shot! You mean to tell me I survived the bullets, and the fall, _and_ the explosion? And now…"

Alfred searched his side for the blood, for the bullet wounds. 

" I'm healed! The bullets…I don't feel like I've been shot at all! Mowed over by an elephant and then tossed into a landslide, maybe, but not shot. What's going on? Am I…are we…"

" Dead? " A new voice said, " Not now, but you were."

Both Ashfords turned their heads to the new voice.

A tall, gruff, overweight man was standing next to them, smoking a cigar.

Alexia eyed him suspiciously. " And you would be…? "

" Philip." The man introduced. " I'm a friend of the family. My people and I did a…ritual, of sorts, to bring you two back. Umbrella needs you now more than ever. HCF has your virus, Alexia, and is probably experimenting with it right now. They are also starting to monopolize the fields of bio-organic research."

" How did they…" Alexia started, then stopped mid-sentence. She knew exactly how. Steve. They must've gotten to him while she was busy being dead. " Never mind."

Alexia's confused mind struggled to remember all that had taken place that night. She really couldn't remember much past mutating to her third form to take out Chris. After that, things got blurry.

__

Speaking of which, I don't know why I thought that would be a good idea in the first place. I should've taken the meddlers out from the stairwell when I had the chance, but no. I had to go and play games with them. Must've been a side-effect of the virus.

" So, how long has it been? "

Philip understood what Alexia was asking. " Almost three weeks. Which reminds me, aside from your virus, HCF also has a young woman by the name of Alexis in their hold. She's their prisoner. I'm not exactly sure how that's relevant to you, but my boss said…"

" Alexis?! " The Ashford twins barked in unison. 

" That's right. I take it you'll be wanting to tour that particular HCF base? "

" Definitely." Alexia growled darkly.

Philip just smiled. " Well then, I think that can be arranged."

****************************


	3. Prelude to a Disaster

Chapter 3

Alexis sighed as she stared out the bars of her cell. She was in some sort of dungeon area, that was for sure. Where else would there be iron maidens, electric chairs, water chambers, and various instruments of torture? They were all about the dim, stony room she was in now. The very left-hand corner of the room itself served as half of her cage with iron bars closing the other two sides. The only furniture decorating her prison was a small wooden cot with a thin blanket and a pillow so stiff it might as well have been a rock. There was a door, sure. But it was padlocked tight, and unless she suddenly got strong enough to bend the bars, Alexis didn't see how she was going to escape.

__

Why are they doing this to me, she wondered, _I'm only 14 years old, I can't possibly know anything they haven't already figured out. Unless…maybe they're not holding me here for information at all. Maybe they just want to experiment on me, turn me into some sort of horrible mutation. Maybe they're already gearing up the proper equipment…_

She was interrupted from her morbid thoughts when the only door to the miserable little room suddenly flew open and the tall, blonde man wearing sunglasses stepped in. 

Alexis instinctively retreated to the farthest corner of the cell. She had seen this man before and knew he was dangerous. In fact, he was one of the military-whackos who had helped kidnap her from her Florida home.

The black-clothed man shut the door behind him, then strode leisurely up to the cell as if it were all the most natural thing in the world.

He grinned when he saw the terrified young girl in the back of the enclosure.

" So, how are you doing today, Alexis? Comfortable? " 

" As comfortable as I can be with a rock for a bed. Tell me, is this the latest in torture? Having to sleep on a big splinter with fig-leaf blankets and an iron pillow? " Alexis didn't know why she was poking fun at the man, she was just scared. More scared than she had ever been in her life. This wasn't like the times she'd dreamed of monsters and ghosts lurking in the shadows. This time she couldn't just wake up and have Mr. Rosken or Mrs. Phelps come running in and give her a nice cup of tea or cocoa and tell her everything would be alright.

The man in the shades actually seemed amused. " Ah, trying to be funny, are we? Well. Isn't that something. But I'm not really in the mood to kid around right now, dear. I just want you to tell me a few things, that's all. Co-operate, and maybe you'll see your family again. But if you choose to be a problem, well…" The man gestured to all the horrible torture devices hanging on the wall and lying around the room. 

Alexis barely stifled a cry. Some of those things looked awfully sharp! She could just imagine the Shades Guy cutting into her with a saw, or maybe stabbing with a knife…

" Well, if you don't want to play nice," Shades Guy continued in that low, smooth- as- marble voice of his, " Then I guess playtime is going to get a little rough, if you know what I mean."

Alexis frowned. She knew exactly what he meant. " Alright. I'm game."

Shades guy rubbed his hands together. " Good. First question…"

Shades Guy never got the chance to finish. The door swung open and a thin man wearing the same weird army-like outfit as the guys whom Alexis had seen earlier burst through the threshold.

" Wesker, we have a problem! There's been a T-virus spill at one of the research compounds and all our personnel there are either dead or infected. To top that off, all of our security systems are going berserk. We've lost communication with the other research compounds and the B.O.W. containment systems are off-line. We're going to have those creatures running all over the island! "

The man's voice was shrill and frantic, like he was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, which he probably was.

Wesker turned on the frenzied man. 

What happened next happened with such speed Alexis barely saw it. 

Wesker moved so fast he looked like a black blur, and the next thing she knew, the frantic military-man was laying on the ground with his throat ripped out--his blood already starting to puddle and seep into the cracks of the stony floor, his body still twitching in it's final death-thros.

" I hate bad news." Wesker told the corpse matter-of-factly as he drew a little black cloth from his pocket and began to wipe the blood from his hand, " Especially when it comes in the form of a whining sissy-boy about to pee his pants."

He turned to Alexis and gave a cruel, evil smile that seemed to penetrate her very soul.

" Oh well. Duty calls. I guess we're going to have to take a rain check on that whole questioning session."

Without another word, Wesker slipped out of the room, leaving Alexis with only a corpse for company.

************************

" Wow, this is a nice jet." Chris said for about the hundredth time since they'd first seen it in the airstrip. Now they were all aboard, and, using the coordinates Alan had given him, Chris was already flying them towards the Florida Keys. 

And indeed, it was a nice jet. 

Although a bit lacking in size, the outside was a glossy, jet-black and very high-tech looking; it had reminded Claire of the new stealth bombers she'd seen on T.V. before. The inside was only about twenty feet long from cockpit to back-end and probably half as wide, but it was very, very high-tech looking with fancy, leather seats situated next very complex controls full of blinking lights and moving gages. Everything about the aircraft was new and the latest in software and technology.

Claire couldn't even begin to guess what half the fancy switches and stuff were for, but one thing was certain--this was not a run-of-the-mill personal jet, if there even was such a thing. Whoever owned this jet had money. Big time.

Claire settled down in the passenger seat next to Chris and watched the clouds go by in a blur as Chris maneuvered the aircraft on it's course. This craft was very fast. Faster than the speed of sound, probably much faster. 

The only sounds to be heard other than the bleeps and bloops of the controls were the noises Alan made preparing weapons in the back. 

Claire listened to these noises with growing curiosity. Was it just her, or was the motor of this jet oddly quiet? 

" I've prepared a basic survival kit in case things get ugly." Alan's voice penetrated the low hum of the jet's motor, " I brought along a medical kit, a couple of guns, and some grenades in case we need them. Oh, and some knives too. Never know when they might come in handy."

He seemed almost cheery. Claire wondered what was up with that. Given her experiences with crooked pharmaceutical companies and deranged scientists working in secret labs, she was not one to laugh at the potential danger they were about to cross into.

__

Well, maybe he just doesn't fully understand what we're up against, Claire reasoned, _Maybe he just wants to play the big hero, kind of like the way Steve did._

Claire snuggled into her seat, liking the feel of the smooth leather against the skin of her arms.

__

Don't worry, Steve, she thought to herself, _If you're there, we'll find you._

" So, I was just wondering, Alan." Chris asked the young man in back, " How exactly are we going to approach this HCF base? I mean, I have this vision of us flying over the facility and getting shot out of the sky faster than a duck in a hunter's convention. Kinda hard to save the world in itty bitty pieces."

" Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." Alan replied, " This is one of their registered jets. They're sure to recognize it. All you'll have to do is supply them with the landing code when they ask for it."

" And what exactly _is_ the landing code? " 

" Um, T6494, I think."

" You _think_?! " Claire asked, incredulous. She turned over in her seat to face him.

" Alan, if you're off even by one digit…"

" I know! But I'm pretty sure that's the right code! Besides, there's a chance they might not ask for it at all. This aircraft belongs to one of their top officials."

" Oh, that's nice to know." Chris muttered, " And what exactly do we tell this guy's friends if they come out to greet him and find us instead? 'Oh, sorry. We had to borrow this jet so we could get to your island and blow up all your facilities so you won't be able to carry out your evil plans?' Yeah. I'm sure they'd like that."

" Speaking of bombing, do you plan to just fly over the island and hit it with some missiles? " Claire asked, desperately hoping the answer was 'no'.

Chris frowned. " That would be a good idea, if this jet had any weapons armed. I checked the grid when we first got aboard. This baby can fires all sorts of missiles and bombs, but it's empty. Out of everything. Like nobody bothered to stock it up. Besides, even if we had missiles, I wouldn't know which buildings were important."

Relief. She didn't know why, but Claire had a strong feeling Steve was on the island. Almost like she could sense his presence.

" We'll just have to figure it out when we get there." Alan supplied, " We could hack into the main computer system and set the place to self-destruct. Then, Kablooie! No more virus!" 

" Or Kablooie, no more us." Claire pointed out, " Some self destruct systems don't give you as much time as you want to get away. Believe me, I speak from experience. I've almost been toasted by self-destruct systems."

" Same here." Chris gushed, " We'd better make sure we have a secure escape route before we push the button or whatever. But..I guess we'll worry about that when we get there. According to my instruments, that'll be in about an hour, give or take a few minutes."

" Hey, this is a bit off the subject, Alan, but won't your parents be wondering where you are? " Claire asked, hoping to draw the teen out of his shell, " I mean, you look about…"

" I'm eighteen." Alan cut in, " And I could be asking you the same thing." He didn't sound rude, exactly, just a little…uncomfortable. She thought she detected a bit of a nervous edge in his tone.

__

Definitely weird. Alan didn't seem to like to talk about himself much.

" Actually," Claire replied coolly, " I'm nineteen. Already done with high-school and everything. I like motorcycles, cheeseburgers, and traveling. How about you? "

Alan blinked. " Oh, uh…yeah, I guess I like those things too." He replied, totally misunderstanding Claire's question. 

__

Oh brother. But Claire decided not to press it. There was no sense in getting Alan all jumpy and weird. Maybe he'd had a bad family life and just didn't want to talk about it. 

__

Or maybe, Claire suspicioned, _there's something else going on with Alan._

***************************

Wesker stood alone in the hangar at the HCF facility, a frown deepening on his face. _What the hell happened to my jet?_

There were about four planes in the hangar at this moment, but Wesker's precious state-of-the-art black jet was missing. 

__

I could've sworn it was here yesterday…somebody's going to have a lot of explaining to do! His mind raged.

The spilled virus, as well as the B.O.W.S., hadn't quite reached this part of the island yet. Not that he was worried--with his new superhuman powers he was sure he could dispatch them quite easily--but Wesker had wanted to make sure he had a secure escape plan. That was why, after assessing the damage, he had gone down to the hangar. Sure, he could escape in one of the planes, if need be, but Wesker was particularly fond of his jet. It had cost him quite a bit of money.

__

And I'd just had the inside all redone, too. He thought bitterly. 

The faint sound of shoes slapping concrete caught Wesker's attention. Ever since he'd gotten his virus, his senses--as well as his strength and speed--had greatly been heightened. 

Now he could hear someone breathing. The sounds were coming from the other side of the hangar, and by the rhythm of it, Wesker could tell whoever was there was trying not to be noticed.

Quick as lightning, he zipped over towards the sounds, expertly dodging the planes along the way, and the next instant he was holding a small, scruffy man wearing a tweed jacket up by the neck.

" Aaa….Wesker….igs jusk me." The scruffy man replied, and Wesker let him drop. 

It was Sam, one of the guys who worked here. 

Wesker had only met him once or twice, but he'd never really paid much attention to the small, brown-haired man who helped tune the planes and jets in the hangar.

" Sam. I'm going to ask you this just once: what happened to my jet? " Wesker's tone was not at all friendly--things were just not going his way today.

Sam rubbed his neck, and Wesker watched with increasing agitation as he began sweating--his face turning red, as if he knew he was screwed.

" Well…your jet…was that shiny black one, wasn't it? " Sam sounded like he was about to cry, " Well it…it kinda got…misplaced."

" What?!" Wesker roared. He yanked Sam up by his throat and threw him against the wall, not hard enough to do anything serious, but hard enough to let him know he wasn't fooling around. " How do you misplace something as big as a jet?!"

Sam trembled against the wall, not daring to get up. " We got a call the other day. It was your son, Alan. He said that you wanted it flown to someplace in California for restocking. I had no reason not to believe him! I sent Nathan out to fulfill the order. But…Nathan never came back. And he never called."

Wesker was beyond angry. This simple little jerk had taken orders from his _son_?!

" You mean to tell me that you took orders directly from Alan and you didn't even think to check in with _me_ first?"

" No! I mean yes! Well…Alan _is_ your son! I…"

Without a word, Wesker reached down and picked Sam up by the collar of his business shirt with just one hand. 

The man struggled considerably. " Please Wesker…..I don't want to die! "

" Sam. Alan does not work for this company, _I _do. I'm afraid you've made a very foolish mistake." Wesker's voice was calm again, but there was no mistaking the anger it.

He was just about to smash Sam's brainless little skull right through the wall when he heard snickering coming from just beyond the window in the first room that attached to the hangar. 

The snickering was followed by rapidly retreating footsteps and the sounds of doors being opened and closed. An intruder? Or was it just another traitorous worker looking to carve himself a name by stealing secrets and creating total chaos? Either way, Wesker was not about to let him get away.

This was Sam's lucky day--Wesker dropped him like a bag of wet cement and tore off after the mysterious giggler. 

***********************

The first thing Steve Burnside was aware of was his headache. It felt like someone had opened his skull and was now pouring molten lava into his head.

" Oh, man….where have I been? "

He was laying on his back somewhere staring up at more ceiling tiles than anyone ever had good reason to look at. All he had on was some weird-looking white hospital gown…if that was what you could call it. There was a faint buzzing in his ears, and his skin felt kind of….weird. Like he had a really bad case of pins and needles.

He tried to sit up. That's when he noticed all the electrodes and wires sticking out of his flesh in various places all over his body.

__

Or maybe needles and needles. He thought gloomy. _What the hell happened to me? Where am I and how long have I been playing Sleeping Beauty in some mad scientist's lab? Where's…where's Claire?_

Steve forced himself up and refrained from crying out as he tore all the wires from his body. It hurt like a giant wasp stinging every time he pulled one free.

Now he had a clear view of the room he was in, and he nearly fainted at the sight.

Monsters! There were tanks full of monsters everywhere!

They came in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. Some were like the monsters he'd fought back at Rockfort. Others were new. One looked like it had once been a crocodile, but now it was disfigured so badly it was hard to tell. Another one was about the size of a large dog and sported a slick, red, furless body with oversize ears and birdlike legs ending in fierce, curved talons. It obviously stood on it's two hind legs in much the same fashion as a kangaroo, but it's head was clearly serpentine--Steve could just make out the long, protruding tips of wicked-looking fangs from it's mouth. 

All the mutations were floating in a kind of greenish fluid, sleeping in suspended animation. They were hooked up to banks of computers along the far wall. Steve decided he didn't want to look anymore.

He got off the stretcher he'd been laying on and studied the computer he'd been hooked up to with the wires. 

It was considerably larger than the rest, and the screen was now displaying ' Subject Not Detected ' in big, red, capital letters.

__

Yeah, no kidding. The party's all set up, so where'd everybody go? Steve was getting more confused by the minute. He had no idea where he was. For all he knew, he could still be in the Antarctic base. Then again, he could be just off the coast of Japan for that matter. As for time, he wasn't even sure what month it was anymore.

__

How long did they have me on that stretcher? Nobody was around to answer his silent question. 

But Steve was willing to bet there were people around. They'd probably just went off on lunch break or something and forgotten all about him. Lucky him.

__

Well, the first thing I have to do is get out of this hospital gown and into something more complimentary.

Steve began to search the room.

**********************


	4. Showtime

__

Author's note: I am not a fan of heavy swearing. In my fic, I may sometimes substitute swearwords with either symbols such as %$#@ or a politer term. 

****

Chapter 4

The black jet came to a smooth landing on the airstrip of the island's HCF base. Chris was surprised that nobody had radioed him for a landing code. Even better, nobody had opened fire on them. 

__

Well, best not to look a gift horse in the mouth…

" So far so good." Chris stated as he, Claire, and Alan got their supplies together. " They don't appear to be suspicious of us. Now, what we're going to need to…."

" Aaiiirrrrraaa! Aaaaiiraaaa!" Chris was cut off mid-sentence by the piercing shrieks. " Aeeeeeeiiiieee! Aeeeeeeiiirrraaaa!" More inhuman shrieks joined from somewhere in the distance.

The trio froze, abject horror registering on their faces.

" Well, that can't be good." Chris blurted, as if anyone needed _that_ pointed out.

For a moment, nobody said anything. 

Chris felt a sickening dread spreading through his body like a disease. He knew those shrieks. He remembered when he'd heard them for the first time, back at the Spencer estate. How terrified he'd been when one of the slimy, green, ape-like things had jumped at him: razor-claws extended ready to rip his head off, teeth gleaming with spittle in anticipation of the kill! Then he'd had to fight such creatures again when he visited Rockfort and the Antarctic facility. 

Hunters, Umbrella called them, and they were a force to be reckoned with. Swift and deadly. Their only weakness seemed to be their evident lack of intelligence. 

__

Well, that and their evident lack of immunity to magnum bullets. But why would they be at HCF? Chris was afraid of the answer.

Without further delay, he grabbed his trusty magnum. He only had six bullets for it on him, so he was going to have to make each shot count and not waste them.

To either side of him, Claire and Alan drew their Berettas. They were each carrying side-packs to allow room for all their ammo and supplies without tying up their hands. The perfect battle gear. 

" Those shrieks…Chris, do you think maybe a spill has occurred here too? " Claire asked her anxious brother.

" Well, either that or we made Team HCF really mad about something. Maybe I parked in a No-Landing zone."

As if on cue, there was another agonizing, terrible scream, and huge claws tore through the wall of the jet. More claws appeared almost instantly, and within moments the whole left-hand side of the jet was being peeled away in a frenzy of ripping talons and piercing screeches.

" Hunters! " Claire gasped. She was up and heading for the exit before Alan had time to even register. 

" Yeah, no kidding. Let's bail! We'll be eaten alive if we stay here! " Chris agreed.

Claire, Chris, and Alan shot out of the jet and started across the grassy runway.

The closest building happened to be a small, beige, circular structure of about two stories in height. It wasn't particularly fancy, but there were little flowers of various shades of pink, red, and white planted out front in neat little rows. 

But right now, Chris couldn't care less if there were little flowers out front or big heaps of garbage, as long as the building had an inside.

From behind him, he could hear the enraged cries of the hunters, robbed of their meals. He looked back to see an angry mob of the ugly mutations swarming after them.

His heart skipped a beat when the sheer number of the creatures struck home.

__

Oh God, there must be a dozen of them! Chris had never faced more than two at once. _At least they started by attacking the wrong side of the jet. _He found himself imagining what might have happened if such a multitude of killing machines had attacked the _right_ side of the jet, where the only door was located.

It was not a pleasant thought.

Chris reached the building first and threw open the door--Claire and Alan hot on his heels, firing random shots from their Berettas into the angry swarm when they had the chance.

They slammed the door and bolted it just before the first of the hunters reached it in a flying leap.

" Eeeerrraaa!!" The hunter slammed into the metal door and ricocheted off it with enough force to send it to the ground.

A fresh dent appeared in the door. It was strong metal, Chris knew. But it wouldn't hold out forever.

The three friends now found themselves in a lobby of sorts. It almost looked like a reception room at a hospital, with sofas and chairs strewn about and various fake plants highlighting a windowed desk. There were even machines for refreshments. Everything looked tidy and well-lit. The only thing missing from the picture was the people.

Claire frowned, coming to the conclusion at the same time as Chris.

" This room hasn't been empty long." She noted.

The three were interrupted from their thoughts by a fierce pounding on the door. Claws appeared through the metal.

" And it looks like we're going to have company." Alan remarked bluntly, his gun pointed at the door. His voice was firm and unwavering. 

Chris thought he was acting surprisingly calm, given the circumstances.

" I don't know about you two," Claire called, " But I'm not going to be here when those things bust in! " She disappeared through a door to the right side of the reception desk that Chris had somehow missed earlier.

Well, he could sit here and wait for the hunters, or he could follow Claire through Door Number One and see what was on the other side. 

Chris decided to take his chances in the unknown.

Apparently, Alan was of the same opinion.

The two burst into the room Claire had gone in and followed her retreating form down a hall lined with the same kind of fake plants they'd seen in the reception area. 

But Claire was slightly ahead of them; in fact, she'd disappeared into the last brown door at the right-hand end of the hall before they'd gotten halfway down.

It was at that exact moment that one of the doors along the side of the narrow hall flew open and a lady wearing a white outfit smeared with blood staggered out. Chris and Alan had to put on the breaks to avoid colliding with her.

" What the…? " Chris started, then stopped when the woman turned on him. One look at her glassy, glazed-over eyes, and the blank expression on her bloodied face, and he knew the answer. She was a zombie.

__

Oh %$#@. Chris thought. Something was very, very wrong here.

The zombie lunged! Chris acted on pure instinct--jerking backward like he'd been hit in the stomach with a branding iron just before the zombie's hungry hands closed on the air where his face had been only seconds before. The only problem was, Chris had forgotten that Alan was standing right behind him. He'd also forgotten just how narrow the hallway was.

" Hey!! " Alan yelped as Chris slammed into him. As a result, both Alan and Chris lost their balance and fell: Alan landed on his back on the floor, and Chris landed on his back on top of Alan, only to find himself staring right up into the hideous face of the zombie.

It almost seemed to grin, as if laughing at his mistake.

Words could not describe how incredibly stupid Chris felt just then. This was no way to fight a zombie! This was no way to do anything!

" Um, Chris? Do you think you could get off of me sometime _before _the zombie tears our guts out? " A flattened Alan pleaded from under Chris. He could scarcely move--the wind had been knocked out of him.

The zombie started leaning in for the kill…and Chris brought his magnum up and shot it right between those blank, staring eyes; decimating the face and spraying the walls--as well as Chris himself--in a shower of red. 

He leapt up off of Alan and turned to help his fallen comrade. 

" Sorry about that." Chris apologized red-faced, " I guess I just forgot you were behind me."

" No problem." Alan replied as he rose off the floor. " Besides, you saved me from most the spray." He gestured to the blood spattered across Chris's gray-green shirt.

Chris looked down and frowned. " Ah, crud. Just the fashion statement I wanted to make." He muttered sarcastically.

" Yeah, well I guess that answers beyond the shadow of a doubt our earlier question as to weather or not there's been a spill here.

" No kidding." Chris grumped, " Hey! We need to find Claire! Come on, I saw her go in that last door down on the right."

He started after his sister, worry intensifying with each step he took.

__

Suppose she runs into a whole room full of zombies? Or worse yet, hunters? Chris's mind was working over-time when he threw open the door Claire had went into and charged into what looked like a data-room.

A zombie was there to greet him.

Without missing a beat, Chris pulled the Beretta from his pocket and fired on the repulsive creature.

Alan was there in an instant, joining him.

The zombie was down in just a few shots: it's face and torso all but decimated.

After that was taken care of, Chris and Alan looked around, allowing their eyes to take in the layout of the room.

As near as Chris could figure, this was some sort data room with computers and desks filling most of it's area. There were some printouts from the computers lying nearby. One looked like a map.

Chris went over and snatched it. His eyes lit up when he saw the layouts and facilities of the entire island. 

Yes! This was what they needed! 

" At least we won't be wandering around in the dark anymore. So to speak." Chris announced when Alan peered over his shoulder.

" A map. Nice. According to my calculations, we should be right…here." Alan jabbed a finger to the building that was marked 'Research Clinic No.2'.

Chris frowned. " Research Clinic Number Two? How many of these things do they have?"

" I'm not sure," Alan admitted, " But at least we now have some idea of where we are. Even if we can't pinpoint the exact _room _we're in…I think that's the main command center."

Alan pointed to the large, five-story rectangular building crowning the middle of the map. It was labeled ' HCF Control Center. ' According to the map key, it was about three-hundred yards or so from Research Clinic Number Two. 

Chris felt his spirits dampen. Three-hundred yards across who-knew-what kinds of monsters that could be on the prowl.

He studied the map closer. Other than HCF Central Control and Research Clinic Number Two, there were approximately three smaller buildings flanking the island marked ' B.O.W. Containment', a docking area for ships, and a hangar.

The hangar, of course, was just next to the airstrip. Had they ran the opposite direction when they left the jet, Chris was sure, they would've been torn to pieces by the hunters. But if they _had_ made it, they would've ended up at the hangar.

__

Well, knowledge is power. Speaking of which…Chris's eye caught the rest of the stacks of papers filled with words and readouts.

Just then, " Bam! Bam!" Gunshots reverberated throughout the room.

" Claire!" Alan blurted. He was out the door in a flash.

Chris grabbed a handful of papers and stuffed them in his pockets. 

__

Later. He promised himself.

*******************

Claire was not having a good time. Her legs pumping at full speed, she streamed through a hall and slammed the door shut behind her.

The virused dogs that had been chasing her squealed to a halt. They began to growl and howl ravenously, their claws clicking against the linoleum. She heard the scraping of claws against steel and knew they were trying to get in. 

Wonderful. Well, they couldn't dig through metal, and unless they suddenly sprouted hands to turn the knob, Claire figured she was safe.

Nevertheless, she kept her back against the door and took in her new surroundings.

It looked like some kind of lab with long tables holding microscopes, Bunsen burners, a couple computers, and racks filled with various flasks. Some of the flasks even had liquids in them. Scalpels, and other surgical equipment were laying neatly.

But what really caught Claire's attention were the jars on one bookshelf. Each was filled with some kind of clear fluid, and suspended in the fluids were some of the creepiest things Claire had ever seen. Hearts., tissues, and animal embryos of all sorts. A lot of the specimens she couldn't even recognize: they just looked like lumps of pink and red flesh laced with little veins. A severed cat-head was in one jar--it's expressionless eyes fully open and staring blankly into eternity. 

Claire turned away. _Okay, that is so beyond gross. And where are Chris and Alan? _The thought just occurred to her: Chris and Alan hadn't been following her when she'd been ambushed by the dogs in one of the rooms. Had something happened to them?

Behind the door, the dogs had stopped growling. In fact, Claire couldn't hear them at all anymore.

Unsure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, she chanced a glance out the little window fixed into the door. Beyond the glass, the hallway stretched for about fifty feet and was lined with several metal doors just like the one she now stood behind. Three of them were ajar. There was no sign of the dogs other than the pieces of rotted flesh that had fallen off their decomposing bodies. Of course, that didn't mean that they still weren't nearby. They could've gone into any one of the opened rooms. 

Speaking of such, Claire hadn't found a single locked door yet. 

That was something to be thankful for, at least. If the door to this room had been locked, she would've been in serious trouble.

__

Okay, so where to go from here? Claire wondered. Not the way she'd come in, of course. There had to be--there. 

A door to the back of the room. It was halfway hidden by a bookcase--which in itself was rather odd--but it was a way out. With one last glance out to the hall to make sure the coast was clear, she headed for it, getting more antsy by the minute.

It was deathly quiet in here. The silence made her uncomfortable; she was getting the same, foreboding feeling she'd got walking down that one hall at the Antarctic base where Steve had been held captive in a chair. 

Claire was almost to the door when she stopped, the hair on the back of her neck standing. Something didn't feel right.

Suddenly, the door in front of her literally exploded off it's hinges! It and the bookcase went flying, and Claire had to dive under one of the lab tables to avoid being hit with shards of broken wood.

Her heart froze when she saw what was now standing in the threshold where the door had been.

Solid black outfit, blonde hair, shades--the man standing in front of her could only be Albert Wesker himself.

************************


	5. Prisoners

****

Chapter 5

Wesker grinned when he saw the stricken Claire hiding under the less-than-adequate cover of the lab table. 

" I was going to knock, but I didn't figure you'd answer."

__

Oh fudge, what am I going to do now?! Claire's mind raced. She'd seen Wesker in action first-hand back at Rockfort, and then again at the Antarctic facility. At Rockfort, he'd tossed her around out front of the Ashford palace a bit while grumping about how much he hated Chris. She had thought he was going to kill her on the spot, but instead he'd turned away, saying, ' I'm going to let you live a little longer. ' Somehow, the way he'd said that hadn't done much to cheer her up.

The second time she'd encountered Wesker, he'd kidnapped her to lead Chris out into a sort of docking area for the submarine. He'd let her go, of course, but only to fight Chris. 

But he had just been toying with her, using her to get to Chris. Claire had no doubt at all that he'd kill her if it struck his fancy. Even worse, Chris wasn't here this time, and Claire had no idea how she was going to escape--or fight--someone with the strength and speed of Wesker.

" What's the matter dear? Surely you didn't think you'd seen the last of me." Wesker's voice was calm. Cheery, even. 

Claire wasn't sure what to say, she just wanted out of there. Without warning, she darted out from under the table and made a run for the door to the hall. Maybe the dogs were gone, and maybe they weren't, right now she just didn't care. 

She never made it that far. Two steps and she felt like she'd been hit by a bullet. The next thing Claire knew, she was lying face down on the floor with Wesker hovering over her. 

He fastened one gloved hand around the base of her neck and lifted her up, taking no concern whatsoever in her comfort or basic well-being.

It was tight! Claire felt the air being chocked from her lungs_. Oh no, he's got me! He's got me and he's going to kill me! _Was all Claire could think just then. She was scared. More scared than she wanted to admit.

She reached up and tried to pry his hand free, or at least loosen his hold, but it was no use. Wesker was simply too strong. She couldn't budge one finger, much less his whole hand.

Wesker turned Claire around to face him. " That was just rude. What's wrong, Claire? Don't you miss me? "

" Like a toe misses a hangnail." She spat. She considered hitting him across the face, decided against it. That move might work on a normal person, but it'd probably only enrage Wesker. She didn't quite know exactly what he was capable of, but she did know that she had a snowball's chance in Hell of outrunning him. This guy could move like Roadrunner on the Saturday morning cartoons. Even if she did get free, she wouldn't get far.

" I missed you too." Wesker said without feeling, and she could hear the sarcasm dripping from his words. " But I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you someplace a little more comfortable before we can catch up."

He raised his free hand a brought it down on her head with just enough force to knock her unconscious. 

He didn't want her dead. Not yet.

******************* 

Steve couldn't help but feel like he was wandering around in circles like some type of disoriented lab mouse.

__

I just came this way, didn't I? He was standing in something resembling a library of sorts with books and files spanning the many shelves filling the room. It was like de' ja vu. 

Since he'd searched the lab room he'd first occupied he'd found an old trunk in the corner full of some type of military garb. He had no idea what it was doing there. In fact, he didn't even want to know. After going through the various garments he'd found a shirt and pair of pants about his size that he could halfway stand. They were green-and-brown camouflaged army clothes, but they'd do. In such circumstances he couldn't afford to be picky. 

By now Steve had pretty much concluded that he was being held prisoner in some type of mad-scientist base. Weather or not it had anything to do with Umbrella remained to be seen. _They must want to study that virus Alexia injected me with. _He thought spontaneously. 

The idea made him queasy. He remembered mutating into some kind of butt-ugly green monster and nearly killing Claire. His mind had just become so muddled that he hadn't been able to think straight. He had given in to the monster's urges. It had wanted to slice Claire into fettuccini. And he almost had, too. _But you came through, _he reassured himself, _you came through and you didn't do it. You helped her._

That was some comfort, at least. But what about his virus? Did he still have it, and if so, would he change into that thing again? 

" What is wrong with me? Why am I being punished? " Steve said aloud, to no-one in particular. 

" Is someone there? " A voice whispered. At least, it sounded like a whisper--it was probably coming from another room. 

Steve's heart skipped a beat. There was someone else here! If only… 

" Yeah! I'm here! Where are you? " He wasn't sure if the person would actually hear him, so he'd spoken kind of loudly.

" Over here." The voice pleaded, " I'm trapped in a cage! I need help." By the tone of the voice, Steve could tell it was a girl. And she was in trouble. It didn't sound like Claire, exactly, but then again; why would Claire be in this Hellhole? In any case, he'd barely been able to hear her. 

" Listen, I'm coming. But I don't know exactly where you're at, so if you could make some kind of noise to help me find you it'd be nice."

" Alright. I'll hum." The voice agreed. 

Seconds later, Steve heard a soft humming coming from the right-hand side of the wall. He followed it, creeping along the wall until he got to a door.

This led into a stony hallway, almost medieval in appearance. 

Ok. Definite creep-factor. Why would a seemingly modern faculty have a stony hall right out of an old English castle? It made no sense. 

Then again, Steve was starting to find that fewer and fewer things were making sense anymore. 

He could hear the humming closer now. He was sure it was coming from the big, wooden door on the right. He approached the door, then paused.

__

That tune…I know that tune!

An icy chill ran through Steve's blood. Whoever it was, they were humming the very same tune Alexia had been humming when she had captured Steve back at the Antarctic base. 

It all washed over him in vivid detail: sitting strapped in a big chair with a giant battle axe over it in a gloomy hallway, Alexia humming as she grabbed a syringe from a metal tray. He had threatened her, pleaded with her, begged her to let him go. All to no avail. 

Alexia's heart was as icy as the Antarctic itself.

She had informed him that she was going to do the same experiment on him as she had on her own father. She had said that they all would pay for the death of her brother. She had cackled gleefully when she had first pricked his skin with the dreaded needle.

He had taken it bravely, not saying a word as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness, not letting her see him afraid. But inside he had been screaming.

He tried to push the memory of her frozen touch aside. That was over.

And it was time to see who the damsel in distress was. 

Carefully, Steve opened the door and stepped into the room. He was almost unable to believe his eyes! 

This place was a regular dungeon! Just like in the old horror flicks. The torches on the left-hand side of the room cast the stony expanse in flickering light. There were instruments of torture everywhere: hanging on the wall, protruding from the floor--even the ceiling was laced with chains. There were iron maidens and electric chairs. Sharp saws with dried blood caked on their teeth. A regular guillotine was in one corner, and, just like the one at Rockfort, this one too was coated in blood. There was even a huge blood stain on the floor in front of him, like someone had been killed there. The stench of death filled the air.

But there was something else in here, too. Over to the farthest right corner of the room sat a big iron cage. It was shrouded in shadow for lack of torchlight in that area, but it was most definitely where the prisoner would be.

" Oh, you're here. Thank goodness." The voice greeted. 

Steve grabbed a torch and headed over to the cage.

What he saw when the torch played it's flickering light among the bars totally surprised him.

At first glance, he thought he was staring straight into the icy blue eyes of Alexia! When he looked a little closer, he realized it wasn't Alexia at all but someone who looked a lot like her. 

The young girl--Steve didn't think she looked any older than sixteen, maybe--had almost all of Alexia's features. 

Flowing, straw-colored hair. Eyes as blue as sapphires. A pretty face. A beautiful figure.

Obviously she was a lot younger than Alexia, but Steve was willing to bet they were related. 

The girl smiled when she saw him. " Hello."

Steve felt his heart flutter. She had such a soft voice. 

" Hi." Steve answered, " I'm Steve. Who are you? "

" Alexis." The girl replied.

__

Alexis?! That sounds a lot like…Alexia! Steve resisted the urge to back away. This was insane!

" Are you an Ashford?! " He demanded.

Alexis narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly to the side, strands of blonde hair dripping down her face.

" Actually, yeah. I'm Alexis Ashford. Daughter of Alfred and Alexia Ashford. Is something wrong? "

__

Oh yeah, there's definitely some wrongness here. Steve was thinking. His face was drawn into a deep frown. _Alfred and Alexia, what creeps! _

Then something else occurred to him.

" But weren't they…twin brother and sister? "

It was Alexis's turn to frown. " Yes. What you say is true. I'm inbred. But look, we don't have a lot of time here. Any minute now that man with the sunglasses will return, and if he does you're dead. I think they want to torture me. You have to get me out of here! "

Steve made a face. " Your parents were killers! How do I know you're not?! "

Alexis was taken aback. " I'm not! I swear, I wasn't even raised by my real parents! "

" And I'm supposed to believe that just because you say so? "

Alexis was stunned. " Do I look evil to you? " 

" Well, no." Steve admitted, " But then again, neither did your mommy. Alexis, how can I believe anything you say? "

Alexis bit her lip nervously, but Steve could still read the frustration on her face. When she spoke, it was calm and her tone was soft. " Look, I don't know what happened between you and my parents, but you have to believe me. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want out of here. Wouldn't you? "

She did sound pretty desperate. 

Steve considered this. _Well, I suppose she can't help her heritage. And she does need my help_…Alexis didn't particularly _look_ threatening. And if she had some type of super-virus--those seemed to be going around--she probably wouldn't have ended up in the cage in the first place.

And considering the time the reports had said Alexia had spent hibernating in her capsule back in Antarctica…Steve did the math. If this _was_ Alexia's daughter--and he had no reason to believe it wasn't--she was roughly around 15 years old.

" Alright." He said after a pause. _I sure hope I'm doing the right thing_. Judging by what he'd seen back at Rockfort, and all the documents he'd read while on the run there, evil seemed to run in the Ashford family.

" The key to my cell is over in that wall." Alexis gestured to the wall right across from her cage. 

Steve's eyes swept over bare stone. " I don't see anything." 

Alexis actually giggled. " That's because it's hidden Silly! See that stone brick with the chip in it? Push your finger into the chip." 

Steve went over to the stone and did as he was instructed. There was a mechanical ' whoosh ' sound, and the brick just opened up. A large wrought-iron key was inside the hidden compartment. 

Steve grabbed it and set about putting it to work in the padlock on Alexis's cell. 

It came free with a loud snap.

Alexis rushed out and actually hugged him. 

" Thank you." She cooed.

Steve retracted from her touch. He didn't exactly like being hugged by people he barely knew. 

" We have to get out of here." Steve said matter-of-factly, " Any input you have on that would be nice."

Worry registered on Alexis's fine features. " You mean you don't know how to get out of here? "

" I was a prisoner too. I don't even know _when _I am, much less where I am. And it's not like I saw any yellow brick roads on my way over here."

Now Alexis was really worried. " Did you run into anyone? Guards, personnel. _anyone? _"

" If I had, do you honestly think we'd be having this conversation right now? I didn't see anyone. This place is as quiet as a classroom on a Saturday morning."

" Or a graveyard." Alexis murmured, " Look, there's always someone around in this area. I can hear them. I've been here for five days, and I always hear _someone_. Around the clock."

Steve's frown deepened. " You're saying there could've been an emergency? "

" Worse. There could've been a spill."

************************* 

Ash took one more look down the corridor just to make certain he wasn't again being followed. 

He mentally kicked himself for laughing out loud at the display in the hangar. Wesker had heard and followed him. 

He had tried various rooms and hallways to throw his pursuer off his scent, but only when he entered a room full of zombies did he truly lose him. Of course, the zombies had been much too slow to catch the lithe young man who had darted across the room, but their frustrated moans of displeasure had provided excellent cover noise so Wesker hadn't been able to hear exactly which doors were being opened.

Nevertheless, it had been a close call. The mistake had nearly cost him his life.

Ash now stood by the airstrip, rifle in hand. He had heard an aircraft fly over earlier, and now he could see the black jet parked hap-hazardly in the landing strip. The sunlight glinted off huge metallic gashes in the side.

It looked like some monster or monsters had opened it like a tin-can, Whoever had been in there was most likely either dead or hiding away somewhere.

__

I wonder if those creatures are still around…the thought made Ash bitter. 

Originally, he had intended to find his sister and _then_ release the T-virus onto the island. But then some ' situations ' had come up, and he'd been forced to release the B.O.W.s prematurely. 

Of course, it hadn't taken long for the zombies to start to emerge. He'd had a hand in that too, of course, and had managed to lock a large number of HCF executives and employees inside some of the buildings while he had purposely spilled T-virus into the ventilating system.

They were vermin, and they deserved to die like vermin.

Of course, the virus stopped being contagious by airborne means after about six hours, and it'd been well over that. But by the time the island's unaffected population knew what was happening, it was too late. 

Most had died from the B.O.W.s or been mauled by zombies. A few had managed to escape. But Ash had made sure no one had been able to activate the triggering system. 

Not yet, anyway. It wouldn't do to have him and sister blown to bits before he could carry out his tasks.

From somewhere behind him, a door opened. 

Ash turned to see a zombie stagger out the front door--it's emotionless face searching for it's next meal. It caught sight of Ash, decided he looked tasty, and started forward with all the swagger of a drunk, all the while moaning it's sad melody.

One shot to the head, and the walking corpse's feeding days were over. Forever. 

__

I should probably search the lower levels. She might be down there. Ash found himself thinking. After all, most complexes usually kept prisoners in the basement. Didn't they? 

Ash was about to head back inside when a distant rumble caught his ear.

He looked up to see a jet streaking across the midday sky, heading straight for the island. He waited as the rumble got louder and louder; the jet closer and closer.

Now the roar was almost deafening. The aircraft was definitely coming in for a landing.

And even at this distance, Ash could make out the emblem of the hawk grasping the halberd. He almost couldn't believe his eyes.

Was it possible that Philip had managed to succeed in his task?

Ash felt a sudden surge of joy.

He watched the gray jet land next to the black one. 

The engine finally died, and two figures stepped out of the plane. 

Ash recognized them immediately. Alfred and Alexia!

They started on their way to where Ash was standing, but he didn't bother waiting. Overwhelmed with joy, the young man sprinted across the field to meet them.

They kept walking even as Ash sided up with them. " Hi Mom. Dad. I'm glad you made it! "

Alexia smiled wickedly. " Ash my son. How you've grown." She stopped a moment to stroke his soft, blonde hair.

Ash stopped to savor the moment, electrified by her touch.

" I was just telling your mother what a good boy you've been." Alfred supplied in that familiar heavily-accented voice of his.

The three Ashfords continued on their way.

" I'm so glad to see you!" Ash went on, then stuttered. " But…they've got Alexis. I've been trying to find her."

" I know." Alexia reassured her son, her voice as cold as the Artic tundra, " We'll get her back. Then we're going to show them what happens when you mess with the Ashfords."

**************************


	6. Hero

****

Chapter 6

Alan made a face as he and Chris descended down the stairs into the darkness. 

" Remind me again why we're going down here." He groused, " Do you really think Claire came this way? " He was getting the same jittery, anxious feeling he always got when he felt he was being delayed from doing something important. 

Claire might need their help and Chris wanted to snoop around basements?

Though he hadn't known her for long--only today, in fact--Alan had decided he really liked Claire. She was smart, witty, and had a certain coolness about her. It seemed that nothing could get under her skin.

As for Chris, the man was a disaster waiting to happen. First, he'd fallen on Alan. Then, after they'd heard the gunshots and rushed to investigate, Chris had accidentally slammed a door on his fingers. After that drama-rama, they'd run into a pack of zombie-dogs waiting for them in some kind of trophy room filled with real stuffed animals and display cases. The ensuing moments had been pandemonium, one in which a stray bullet from Chris's gun had whizzed so close to Alan's face he'd felt the wind from it ruffle his hair. As if that weren't bad enough, the almost-lethal bullet had loosened a huge moose head mounted high on the wall right over him. Alan had barely managed to scramble away before the thing came crashing down right where he'd been only a split-second before. On the bright side, it had totally smashed the zombie dog moving in for the kill.

All things considered, Alan had decided that it would be best to proceed with caution when dealing with Chris. 

" Hmm, she might have." Chris said in response to Alan's question, " Let me point out that we don't exactly know where Claire went. One room's as good as another to search. Besides, companies like this always have some sort of secret to hide in the basement."

" Maybe, but ask yourself this: Is that a secret we actually _want_ to find? I mean, we're talking about a place that does biological research and viral experiments on all sorts of species, including humans. We could run into some sort of frog-monster with a laser-cannon attached to it's head. Really not looking forward to that."

A dim reddish glow radiated at the bottom of the stairs. Alan and Chris stepped off the last step and onto smooth sod. They quickly scanned the room.

Broken tables and torn equipment was flung about everywhere like a giant toddler had thrown a tantrum. Chairs lay strewn in splinters. Shattered glass was everywhere. Five or six bloodied corpses wearing lab coats were laying in various positions on the floor and propped against the wall, frozen expressions of terror still etched on their lifeless faces. It was hard to tell exactly what the room had been before it was demolished.

" Oh my god. What happened _here_? " Chris gasped.

" Well, either some sort of monster got loose in here, or it was one heck of a wild party. Take your pick."

Alan walked up to one of the bodies lying facedown on the floor and gave it a gentle nudge with the tip of his boot. It flipped over, and he found himself staring into the cold face of a young woman around the age of 24 or so. Her chest had been almost completely ripped out, and fresh blood was still flowing from the wound. It looked like giant claws had ripped through her torso. 

He backed up, feeling more than just a little queasy.

Most likely a hunter attack. He couldn't think of anything else off the top of his mind that would do that kind of damage in what appeared to be such a short time. It definitely didn't look like a zombie kill.

" These people were killed only recently." Alan remarked.

But Chris had already come to the same conclusion. " Which means that whatever did this might decide to come back." 

He started back up the stairs with Alan on his heels. Both friends were trying not to think too much about the scene down in the basement.

They entered another hall and chose the door on the right. It opened into a small personal office. A gold plaque reading ' James T. Miller ' was sitting on a sparse desk littered with few personal items. There were no monsters or other nasties in here, at least.

" Ugh! I feel like we're wandering around in circles!" Chris complained. He pulled out his map and scoffed. " Hmph. This shows the layout of the buildings, but not the layout of the rooms _inside_ the buildings. Useless!"

Alan was beginning to feel the same way. Other than a few notes and papers here and they, they had encountered virtually nothing of any significance.

No Claire. No triggering system or any of the like.

Only zombies and zombie-dogs. 

It was like a big waste of time. And now they were running low on both time and bullets.

Alan wandered over to the desk and casually opened a drawer. Much to his delight, there were a couple packs of 'American Wolf ' handgun bullets inside.

" Hey! Found some ammo! " He held the packs up triumphantly before tossing one to Chris.

Chris caught it and stuffed the box into his side pack. " You know," He mused, " Umbrella's facilities always had plenty of weapons and ammo laying around. Makes you think, doesn't it? " 

Alan nodded. " Yeah. It's like they expect these kinds of things to happen."

Alan watched as Chris spread the map out on the desk and pointed to the center building . 

" HCF Central Control. We need to head there. I'm guessing that's where the big stuff will be."

Suddenly, there was a crash so loud that--at least to Alan, anyway--it sounded like a nuclear bomb going off in a toilet. This was followed by a deafening roar which echoed throughout the hallway.

Chris's eyes went as wide as saucers, and Alan didn't need a mirror to know that his expression was mutual.

" I don't know about big things in Central Command, but there's definitely something big here!" He gushed.

Chris sneaked a peek out into the hallway. By the way he quickly retracted, Alan could tell his comrade had seen something, and judging by the terrified look on his face, it wasn't good.

" There's a tyrant out there!" Chris reported, "And he doesn't look happy!"

" Tyrant?!" Alan squeaked. He knew a thing or two about tyrants. That was practically all his father had talked about before the fall of the Spencer estate.

" _Tyrant will be the perfect soldier, he perfect bio-organic-weapon." _Wesker had told his family one night, " _The size and strength of one alone will make it virtually unstoppable, but could you imagine a whole army of such beings? The world would be at our mercy! " _

Wonderful. While most parents discussed school or sports with their kids, Alan and his sister had to listen to their dad drone on about tyrants, mutations, and global domination. The stuff dreams were made of.

His mother had kind of just went along with it, but Alan remembered thinking that that would be one of the worst ideas in all of history. The weapons the world had now were bad enough, and the thought of Umbrella playing God to create something even _more_ destructive had just mortified him. Of course, he hadn't said anything about it to his father. It would only have enraged him. 

But Alan had been right about the bad idea thing. As it turned out, one of Tyrant's most notable design flaws was it's failure to listen to instruction and take orders. It didn't understand English. In fact, it didn't seem to understand much of anything at all. Tyrant couldn't be controlled, as Wesker had found out the hard way.

Alan had heard that the tyrant back at Spencer had nearly killed his dad. And he did notice that ever since Wesker had gotten back from that attack, he'd seemed…different. Colder. More distant.

__

Which is why I'm really not looking forward to my own personal meeting with Mr. Big.

" Do you think it knows we're here? " Alan stammered.

" I don't plan on waiting around to find out. Let's blow!" Chris sped out into the corridor and Alan followed.

Now he could see the incredible hulking creature to the opposite end of the hall, a hole the size of Georgia punched into what once had been the wall.

It was huge! Humanoid in appearance, the creature was eight or nine feet of gray-skinned bulking attitude built like a tank. One arm was shorter than the other and ended in a mace made purely of flesh and jutting spikes. The other arm looked more human and even had fingers, but it was the huge blades erupting from the hand that stripped away any sense of normalcy. There were four of them in all--all long enough and sharp enough to make X-men's Wolverine jealous.

The monstrosity formed it's disfigured mouth into the equivalent of a grin, exposing rotted teeth and gum.

That's when Alan decided to stop looking. Without thought, he raced to the door he'd came in before and retraced his earlier steps with Chris. He barely registered that Chris was no longer with him.

There was another goliath roar. He could hear the monster thundering after them.

He tried the nearest door. Locked. So was the next. 

The timing could not have been worse.

The Tyrant exploded into Alan's hall without even bothering to open the door--it just plowed right through it as if the whole thing were made of nothing more than paper ma'che. 

_Oh *%$#! This is bad! Badbadbadbadbadbad! _Alan thought as he saw the tyrant's muscles tense in anticipation of the charge. 

There was only one untried door left; and, as luck would have it, it was at the very end of the hall. Alan fired a few handgun bullets into the tyrant and shot for the door.

He was quick. But Tyrant, unfazed by the bee-sting bullets, was much quicker.

The mighty behemoth blew down the hall in a speed surprising for it's size and knocked Alan flying with it's sheer momentum. 

He collided with the door at the far end, cracking plaster and feeling very much like he'd been hit with a brick wall going at least 50 mph. His vision temporarily blurred, he looked up to see Tyrant standing not more than twelve feet away.

His plans having absolutely nothing to do with getting ripped apart by the beast, he tried to stagger to his feet.

At that moment Alan felt as if entire spinal column had been smashed halfway into the rest of his body. Pain! Pain ripped through his back like lightning through a lightning rod! He could barely stand. But he was more than aware of what would happen if he gave in to the urge to rest. Mustering up as much strength as he could, he tried for the door.

Tyrant tensed up.

In an instant, Alan knew it was too late. He'd never make it.

Suddenly, " Hey Ugly! Over here!" The sound of Chris's voice mingled with the crack of a magnum being fired.

The tyrant spun around in a frenzy, ready to annihilate this new threat.

Chris fired again, exploding a chunk off the beast's massive shoulder. 

It gave a bloodcurdling roar before tearing off after Chris. 

Chris darted into the hole the tyrant had made while chasing Alan and disappeared from sight. Tyrant rocketed after it's new prey.

Alan stood propped against the door he'd been trying for, gasping, his muddled mind trying to make sense of what had just happened.

_Chris. He distracted it. He…he saved my life. _Alan felt a surge of gratitude towards Chris. For all his faults, the man never let a friend down. _I owe him. I owe him big time._

The angry bellows of the tyrant grew fainter and fainter as Chris led it further and further away.

After a few minutes, the pain in Alan's back subsided enough for him to move on. It would still be sore for awhile, but not a major handicap. 

He threw open the door he'd been trying for and found himself staring out into a grassy field dissected by gravel walkways that led to the Central Control building. 

Alan set out onto the walkway, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun as he kept a sharp eye out for danger. _Chris will head for this building, and probably Claire did too. _He reasoned_, After all, we came here to destroy this place and the triggering system is most likely to be there. Where else would she go?_

********************************

****

That's it for Chapter 6. Here's some teasers for Chapter 7:

_--Claire and Wesker have a talk and Wesker decides to use her as bait for a trap yet again._

--Steve and Alexis discover a secret

--Alan is faced with a tough decision

Of course, that's not all I have in mind, but it's what I'm advertising for now. I don't know for sure yet how long this story will be once completed, but right now I'm guessing around 12-15 chapters. Bear with me. =^_^=


	7. Bad Deals

****

Chapter 7

Claire woke up with a headache. Having regained her senses, she was quick to notice the cold bite of metal against her wrists and ankles. Both arms ached.

_Where am I? _

" I was wondering when you were going to wake up." Wesker's voice broke the silence of the room.

She could see him standing there now, wearing his usual attire of black and smiling beneath those snappy shades.

They appeared to be in some sort of dungeon with walls, floor, and ceiling all made of stony brick and an empty cell to the far left. 

But what really caught Claire's attention were all the torture devices! This place had the works--chainsaws, electric chairs, iron maidens---you name it.

A dead body was fried and still in an electric chair--he looked to have been dead for weeks, possibly months.

A stretcher by the far wall sported another victim, and Claire had to look away when she saw just how bloody and mutilated it's body was. Next to the stretcher there had even been a metal tray containing an assortment of sharp instruments stained red with blood.

_How terrible! This is like a nightmare! _Claire thought hurriedly, more than just a little panicked. She tried to move her arms and legs to run off and go somewhere, _anywhere_ but here, but it was no use. Her limbs felt like they were bolted to the wall.

Claire tilted her head to see little iron cuffs clenching the soft flesh of her wrists. Two more held her ankles. She was locked in an upright position, but her mobility was very limited. And her side pack was completely missing in action.

Wesker just grinned, enjoying her pain.

She glared at him hatefully. What a creep! What a psycho! Claire's mind came up with many more suggestive terms for Wesker, all which were considered to be very impolite in modern society.

But at the same time, she felt crushed. Helpless. Wesker had her now, and unless she could somehow talk him into being a nice guy and letting her go, she figured she'd just have to play his game. Find out as much as she could. Play what cards she had.

" So. Dearie, do you find your accommodations comfortable? " Wesker purred.

" You creep! I'm chained up to a wall in a dungeon! Exactly how cozy do you think I am? "

" Ah, the dungeon. Perfect term. Gotta love the classics." Wesker spread his arms and gestured to all the torture devices in the room as if he were conducting a tour for a class.

Claire sighed. This wasn't going to be easy.

" Look, why did you even bring me here? If you hate me so much, why not just kill me on the spot? Why the mind games? "

Without answering, Wesker strode up to within three feet of Claire. He slammed a gloved hand against the stone wall right to the left side of her head.

" It's not that I have anything against _you_. It's Chris I despise. We have an old score to settle, as you probably already know. But you…I have something very special planned for _you_."

_My god, what's he going to do to me? _Claire was feeling sicker by the moment. Her eyes drifted to all the sharp saws and knives languishing all over the room, and she found herself fantasizing about how cool it would be to telekinetic abilities and send a few of them flying into Wesker's body like pins to a pincushion.

Wesker took his hand off the wall and removed his shades. The eyes that stared back at Claire now were anything but human. Red encircling gold , with slitted pupils. They reminded her a bit of a cat's eyes, and she had to admit to herself: they _were_ pretty. But they would've been a lot prettier if they didn't also radiate with evil. They bore into her, seeming to melt her very soul, prying at every nerve of her consciousness. 

Wesker wiped his shades off with a cloth before replacing them. 

He seemed to sense her discomfort. " What's the matter Dear, don't you like my new eyes? I find them quite satisfying."

_Why does he keep calling me that? I wish he would stop! I wish_…

__

Claire was interrupted from her thoughts when the door suddenly flew open. She was somewhat surprised to see Alan standing in the threshold.

__

At that moment, it was as if time stood still.

Alan just stood there, a look of absolute shock and horror registering on his face, and Wesker was staring back looking somewhat startled himself, but not quite to Alan's extent.

After a few tense seconds, he smiled.

" Nice of you to drop by, son. Though I am a little miffed that you took my jet without asking." Wesker's voice was cool and confident.

Claire could scarcely believe her ears. " Alan! Wesker's your _father_?! "

All the color drained from Alan's face. He hung his head a bit, looking positively miserable.

" Yes." He squeaked. 

Then, as if a switch had been flicked, he suddenly straightened. " Claire, I know what you're probably thinking right now but I didn't have anything to do with this! I swear I didn't…"

" Save it for later! " Wesker barked coldly.

Alan stopped mid-sentence. He looked to Claire, and she could see the sparkle leave his blue-green eyes. He looked so sad. And frightened.

" You…you're not going to hurt her, are you? " Alan addressed his father.

A sly smirk spread across Wesker's face. 

Claire didn't like that one bit.

" Well, I _was _going to cut her up, show her to Chris before I killed him, but I like this even better." Wesker rubbed his hands together gleefully, sending shivers up Claire's spine.

" This is perfect! Just perfect!" Wesker was almost shouting, " You brought them here, didn't you Alan? Didn't tell them you were related to me, did you? That must mean that Chris trusts you to at least some degree."

" Actually, I don't think he trusts…"

But Wesker wasn't listening. " I was going to have a hard time luring Chris here anyway," He continued, as if Alan had not even spoken, " But now…I want _you_ to do it. He'll follow you before he would me. Lead him here and I'll take care of the rest. His beloved sister will have to watch him die! But if you do as I say…" 

Claire was not expecting Alan to suddenly just lunge forward and tackle Wesker the way he did, and--judging by his reaction--neither was Wesker.

Alan actually managed to knock him off-balance a bit. But it was short-lived. It took exactly two seconds for Wesker to react.

He shoved his son in the chest with such force it sent him halfway across the room. 

Alan landed on his butt.

" Alan, let me share something with you." Wesker hissed poisonously.

He removed his shades and allowed his son to look onto his cat-eyes in all their red and gold splendor.

Claire watched in awe as he zipped over and grabbed Alan up by his throat.

He was so fast! One second he was one place, the next he was another. Like magic.

_Poor Alan. _Claire felt so sorry for the young man. He'd just been trying to protect her and Chris.

Wesker held Alan eye-level with him. " I'm a lot stronger than you remember me, _son_. This new virus has given me almost unlimited power. So it probably wouldn't be a good idea for you to rebel against me right now, _Capish? _" Wesker let go and shoved Alan a bit in demonstration.

It wasn't a particularly harmful shove, but there was no mistaking it's meaning. Wesker was in control. No contest.

Alan backed up a bit, defeated. 

" Dad I…" He started, then trailed off, frowning. He looked to Claire, then Wesker, then back again.

Wesker waited for him to finish.

" I just don't want to see anyone get hurt." He sounded torn.

" Well, one way or another, Chris Redfield is going to die." Wesker said matter-of-factly, " I really don't care if you watch or not. But whether or not Claire will also die is entirely up to you, Alan. You want her to live, do exactly as I say. Do anything different, she dies. Am I clear? " 

Even from where she was standing, Claire could see the hurt in Alan's eyes. And when he spoke, she could hear the absolute hopelessness in his voice.

" As clear as crystal. What do you want me to do? "

Wesker examined his watch in response.

" Hmm…it's half past four. Do you know where Chris is? "

" No." Alan admitted, " We ran into trouble and got split up." 

Wesker frowned. " That so? Listen, I want you to have Chris here at seven-thirty sharp. No sooner. No later. That'll give you three hours. This is a big place to search but you should be able to manage in that. And don't even think about coming back before you find him or before three hours is up. You do, Claire dies. You try anything funny, she dies. Pure and simple. If you do a good job, I promise not to harm her. Have we got a deal? "

Wesker held out his hand, adding insult to injury.

Alan pressed his lips together in a tight line. He was clearly not enjoying this.

" Deal." He grabbed Wesker's hand and shook it tersely.

Claire was unable to control herself. " No Alan! Don't listen to him! He'll probably kill me anyway, you can't trust him! "

But Alan had already made up his mind.

" Sorry." He apologized without even looking at her. He left the room and shut the door behind him.

" He has potential, if he'd just get over that conscience of his." Wesker complained, his eyes on the door, " Sentimental slip-slop. He acted the same way when Enrico died. It was like I couldn't explain enough why I'd had to kill him."

Claire was stunned. " You _told_ him about that?! "

Wesker just turned to her and shrugged, as if it were all unimportant.

" Sure. He asked, I told. After all, isn't that what a good father is supposed to do? Be honest with the child? "

Right then, it hit Claire. Wesker didn't really care about honesty or trust. He had told Alan the truth because he wanted to demoralize him, to slowly strip him of his humanity until there was none left. That was also why he'd put Alan on the spot like that, to force him to make a decision no one should ever have to make.

It made her sick. And now, Chris was going to die because of it.

Claire felt like screaming. She opened her mouth to tell Wesker exactly what she thought of him, to tell him that Chris was going to kick his sorry butt and he was going to pay for what he'd done, but nothing would come out.

A dozen swearwords came to mind. But in the end, all Claire could manage was:

" You're _not _a good father." 

**********************************

Alan bit his lip as he climbed the stairs leading from the dungeon-area.

_How am I going to do this? How can I betray a friend? _He thought sadly, _Chris is a good person. And he saved my life. I can't let Dad kill him the way he did Enrico! But if I don't do what he said he'll kill both Chris _and _Claire. What am I going to do? How can I save them both?_

Alan thought about this for a moment.

One choice was to go ahead and lead Chris into the trap and just hope he and Chris together had what it took to defeat Wesker.

Alan didn't like this idea. His father had some sort of superpowers now and could probably wipe the floor with Chris, his help or no.

Then another thought occurred to him. Maybe he should tell Chris about the whole thing, and then they could work something out together.

This plan was risky too. There was almost no way he could let Chris in on the loop without also revealing that he was Wesker's son. Once Chris heard that, why should he believe anything Alan had to say? And even if he did leave out that part, Chris would probably be suspicious at the very least.

But if he told the whole story, Chris would probably be angry and frustrated…Alan wasn't sure how he'd deal with the knowledge.

And it wouldn't do to have Chris angry or suspicious. The slightest slip-up would kill Claire. What if his dad somehow found out?

A zombie suddenly blocked Alan's path, and he found himself filling it with more lead than was necessary.

This wasn't fair! Why did he have to play the bad guy?

Alan nearly emptied his clip on the one zombie and immediately found himself wishing he'd been more conservative.

Things were bad. Very bad.

Alan stepped over the corpse and headed out to look for Chris. He couldn't remember a time he'd felt more miserable.

************************************** 

" So, Alfred and Alexia were really your real parents? As in, Alexia gave birth to you? " Steve asked casually, hoping to make conversation with his new friend.

They'd encountered their first zombie back a few doors ago, and their worst fears had been confirmed. Of course, they'd had no guns so they'd had to improvise. In that case, improvising had meant locking the zombie in the room.

The lock could be done only from the inside, but zombies were never known for their intelligence. It was too stupid to figure out how to twist the little metal piece on the knob.

Ever since then, they'd been prepared--Steve with a metal pipe he'd found in an only halfway constructed room, and Alexis with a knife she'd found laying on the floor of all places. 

They were desperately hoping to find better weapons.

" Yes." Alexis answered Steve's question, " That's true. My mother was only fifteen when I was born."

They opened the door to another room, flicked on the light, and tensed up--watching and listening.

When it became evident that nothing was going to leap out at them, they entered.

" Wow. I mean, I guess I'm not used to hearing about twins that…would do that sort of thing. Especially at that age. That's just wrong on so many levels. And it's creepy on a level I hardly knew existed. Plus, Ick-Factor. _Major _Ick-Factor. Are you their daughter or their niece? "

Alexis just shook her head good-naturedly. 

" I don't know. Both, I guess. You know, it's not like I got to choose…"

" Whoa! Back up! I'm not saying that it's your fault! " Steve interjected.

Alexis smiled and stared at him with those fierce blue eyes.

" Great. Now let's see what all's in this room."

Steve turned his attention back to the room they were in and away from all the memories of Alfred and his disturbing letters and memos he'd happened across at the Palace.

The guy had been certifiably nuts. And it was so obvious that Alexia had been out of touch with reality herself.

The room was small and cluttered--mostly with personal items and stacks off books and papers. It was an office of some sort. There was even a computer on the desk. 

Steve grinned. What luck!

" Hey, a computer. What say we see what's shak'in 'round here? " Alexis nodded her agreement, and Steve went over to turn the machine on--only to find it _already _on.

" Oooookay." He muttered, " Lights out, but computer still on. I give that a four on the Scale of Weirdness."

" Look what's on the screen." Alexis said.

Steve looked. The screen was filled with several different folders and programs. One folder in particular caught his eye.

KITICORE REASEARCH, it read, all in capital letters. He clicked on the file.

The computer hummed a moment, then another screen opened up. On it was a scaled drawing of some type of creature labeled ' Kiticore '.

Steve's jaw dropped. So did Alexis's.

They'd never seen anything like it!

The creature had a head something like a raptor straight off Jurassic Park mounted on a slender lion-like body. The head itself, though dinosaurian, had the same shape of ears you'd expect to see on a big cat, cat eyes, and twin saber-fangs. The jaw line revealed a mouthful of sharp raptorial teeth. Three short horns poked from the head.

The body itself was stocky enough to be a lion's, but it was shaped sort of like a wolf's with four long legs ending in paws bearing retractable claws that the chart said were over a foot long.

The tail was long and tapered, ending in a deadly scorpion-like stinger tip.

Then there were the wings: huge and bat-like protruding from the creature's upper torso.

That chart showed the creature at several different angles along with info about it.

It was 27.7 feet long, from nose to tip of tail, 5.1 feet at the shoulder, and weighed in at 2,212 pounds with a 40 foot wingspan! 

_Quite impressive. A monster that size could do some serious damage!_ Steve thought.

He scrolled down the page some more and saw a real-life picture of the creature sitting next to it's creators.

Once again it struck Steve just how huge this thing was! In the photo, it looked much bigger than a horse! It's entire body was covered in tawny-gold fur.

The label over the picture read: Kiticore experiment a success. 

Further reading revealed that Kiticore was about as smart as a dog and as strong as seven Siberian tigers in addition to being an adept flier.

It was designed as protection and as a weapon against Umbrella.

Steve turned to Alexis, suddenly feeling very worried.

Alexis bit her lip nervously. " Are you thinking what I'm thinking? " Her voice was shaky.

" I am if you're thinking that we need to find better weapons, blow this place up, and get the heck out of here. Maybe not exactly in that order."

*************************************************

****

__


	8. Disturbing Discoveries

**Chapter 8**

Chris couldn't tell how long he'd been running, but at last he no longer heard the tyrant thundering after him..

In all the excitement, he'd actually darted outside and ended up right where he really didn't want to be: another Research Clinic.

Once he was safe within it's walls, he'd checked the map. He made a face when he realized this one wasn't even _on _the map. Either this building had not yet been constructed when the maps were made, or else the mapmakers had made a major error.

He was now standing in someone's personal dormitory, listening for danger while he collected his senses.

_At least I got Tyrant away from Alan_. The thought stirred up some pleasant feelings. Alan had needed his help, and he'd came through. He was safe for the moment, but Chris could only hope Alan and Claire hadn't run into anything they couldn't handle. 

Saying this island was dangerous would be one heck of an understatement.

Chris went over and sat on the made bed, not caring who's personal space he was invading. While he rested, he tried to piece it all together.

Alan had said HCF wanted to use an airborne virus to terrorize a city and make demands on the government. Okay, that made sense. They had all arrived expecting to have to lie and sneak past guards, but instead they'd been greeted by monsters and zombies.

That didn't make sense, and the more he thought about it, the more it bugged him.

Had there really been an accidental spill? Or had someone planned all of this? Maybe Umbrella was responsible. It would stand to reason that they wouldn't want competition from HCF. For all he knew, there could already be special forces waiting for the right moment to blow the entire island to smithereens. 

In any case, most all of HCF were either dead, gone, or hiding. At least the threat of them using the airborne virus now had gone down considerably.

Maybe someone had escaped with a sample, maybe not.

The truth was that the real threat wouldn't be gone until this island and all the virus carriers on it were history. 

Chris was going to make that third priority--right after finding his sister and securing an escape route.

But what of Alan? He was missing now too, and he felt a nagging doubt inside.

Though it didn't seem likely, Chris couldn't rule out the possibility that this was not a coincidence. 

Alan had been acting kind of strange right from the beginning, which only added to the suspicion.

_I trusted Wesker once before, and just look how well that turned out_. Chris thought darkly, _Then again--maybe that's why I'm getting all suspicious. Maybe I'm just looking for sneaky business in Alan because he reminds me of Wesker. Yeah, that must be it. _

To Alan' s credit, whatever plans he may have had, they most certainly would not have had anything to do with getting killed by Tyrant.

That was a plus, wasn't it?

Chris was getting more and more frustrated by the moment. It was hard to know who to trust anymore.

__

And Claire, she's a survivor. She's probably hidden away somewhere right now thinking of a plan; maybe even risking her life to see me again, and here I am sitting on my tush doing nothing.

That was all the motivation he needed to get up.

He searched the small dorm room and came up with two more clips of bullets plus a can of pepper spray. He frowned a bit as he stuffed the findings into his side pack.

__

Makes me kind of appreciate Umbrella. At least they left shotguns, machine guns, and grenade launchers with plenty of ammo laying around all over the place. These HCF people are wimps. Handguns and pepper spray. Try fighting a pair of hunters with **those** _and see how long it takes you to get eviscerated. Then again, I haven't run into any stupid puzzles yet and most of the doors are unlocked. Maybe that evens it out a bit._

Chris's thoughts drifted back to Rockfort and it's palace and military training facility.

When he though of how much of a pain in the @%$ that house must've been to live in on a day-to-day basis, his head hurt.

Bridges that only went one way, little figurines you had to find and memorize the location of as well as where they went to, eagle plates, music boxes, pianos that had to be played just right to unlock hidden slot machine compartments, army proofs…the list went on and on. And some thingamajig was always missing from something important, and you always had to go what seemed like miles out of your way to find parts of puzzles hidden in the most obscure and ridiculous of all places.

No wonder Alfred and Alexia had went crazy.

Any more time in a place like that, and Chris imagined he would've been ready for the looney-bin himself.

He scanned the room once more, preparing to leave.

That's when his eye caught on a little red diary laying on the bookshelf. Curious, he went over and picked it up. Well, this should be an interesting read…

The diary was owned by a Mr. Scott Beckson. The first entry was dated about a month ago: **_I just met the girl of my dreams today, a lovely angel by the name of Linda! When she first said ' Hi ' I thought I must still be asleep_**…

Chris skimmed parts of the diary, then threw it down in disgust. All Scott had wanted to write about was his love life, and there were virtually no references to anything even the least bit important.

_Well, I've read enough_. Leaving the diary where it lay, he left the dorm.

He went down the hall and opened the door to the galley. As soon as he did, the place came alive with moans . There had to be over a dozen zombies in there!

Deciding he really didn't need into the galley the badly, Chris closed the door and went along his way.

He needed to find clues as to where Claire and Alan might have went.

No sooner had Chris opened the door to the next room when he heard a low hiss, like the sound water makes when boiled.

The lights to the room were off, and he was just reaching for the switch when he heard movement.

Suddenly, a creature flew out of the room and hit him head-on in the chest with huge cat paws!

Chris went down hard, sharp claws tearing into his flesh. A black snake head danced around like a live wire; biting at his face . 

He raised an arm to block the blow and grimaced as sharp fangs sunk in. The creature released to strike again--still digging at his chest with it's claws.

Chris brought his other hand up--the one that held the gun--and fired five shots point-blankly into the creature's chest. It died with a weird hissing sound as every muscle in it's wretched body suddenly went limp.

Without missing a beat, Chris was up and shutting the door to that room, lest there be more creatures in there.

He then turned his eyes to the beast on the floor, and for the first time got a really good look at it.

About the size of a large dog, the creature had a feline body covered in glossy black fur. The head and tail were that of a snake; also black.

It looked like something from that new relic game '_Impossible Creatures' _Chris had heard about: the game where you combined two animals to get a new one. This looked like a panther-cobra mix.

__

My god, what are they doing down here?! I sure hope that thing wasn't poisonous!

Thinking it was better to be safe than sorry, Chris reached into his side pack and pulled out a blue herb mixture. He took it while he dressed his wounds. They were nothing major--just a few small punctures on his arms and some mild scratches on his chest. The snake-cat really hadn't gotten much time to do anything real harmful to him.

Having taken care of that, he continued on his course, desperately hoping he'd seen the last of those things. And if they had snake-cats, what else might be lurking around this island? He really didn't want to know, and hopefully he and his team would be out of here before they had to find out.

Feeling like a mouse in a maze, Chris pulled out his map. 

There was HCF Central Control, standing out from the other buildings as if to mock him. It was a lot bigger than this clinic or whatever he was in now.

Had Claire and Alan went there? _Of course they did, you doofus! Where else would they go? Off looking for the B.O.W. containment buildings? _Chris thought sarcastically. 

Of course they'd head for the big place. That would be where the most important things were kept, and therefore it would be the most logical place to go.

_Which reminds me, why am **I **not there? _It was as if a light had been turned on inside his head.

He really should head over to Central Control instead of snooping around Research Clinics like a time-wasting idiot.

Determination set in, and Chris refolded the map and slid it back into his pocket.

He froze when his fingers touched another piece of paper already in.

The papers from that one room! The one he'd been in with Alan before they'd heard Claire scream! He'd forgotten all about them!

He shifted the map to his other pocket and fished out the papers.

Skimming over the print, he looked for anything useful or important.

His heart froze when he read the name ' Albert Wesker ' printed on a memo about who had access to certain levels of research or whatever. Chris didn't really care about that stuff.

But he couldn't take his eyes off Wesker's name.

Seconds ticked by before he finally wadded the papers up and shoved them back down his pocket.

They hadn't really said anything useful, just who's turn it was to do what and when. Nothing at all about secret experiments or any of the like--not even pass codes. 

But it _had_ mentioned Albert Wesker.

Chris frowned, his brain going ninety miles a minute.

So this _was_ the company Wesker now worked for. And if Wesker was here, the situation had just escalated to a far more dangerous level.

Claire could be in very real trouble. What if he had her? What if he did something to her?

He had to find her! Had to warn her!

Chris found himself running maniacally from door to door looking for a way out.

He was in luck. The third door he tried did indeed lead outside.

**************************************

" So, do you think we'll run into this Kiticore? " Alexis asked nervously.

Her and Steve had long since left the office with the computer and were now rummaging through a nearby room looking for weapons.

It appeared to be a storeroom, and there were several unopened wooden crates laying around.

" If we do, we might as well make out our wills. Unless, of course, we find something halfway useful in here, like oh, say: a rocket launcher."

Alexis pried open a crate with her knife and was greeted by the sight of an oddly-colored stack of clothes staring back at her. She made a face.

" Euuueeewww! Talk about fashion-challenged!" She complained, " Who were they trying to dress? Clowns? 'Cause I wasn't even aware the circus even came to this part of the world!"

Steve jerked up suddenly, and for a brief instant Alexis worried she may have somehow offended him.

" Well, if pink and orange are your colors…" She started. Steve cut her off.

" What do you mean ' _this part of the world ' _? Do you know where we're at? "

He wasn't even looking at her, he just seemed transfixed by a mural of Pegasus painted onto the wall.

" Well, I heard my kidnappers say something about the Florida keys. Yeah, there was definitely the mentioning of the Florida Keys. My guess is we're either in or around them."

" Ugh. Figures. The last place I remember being at was the Antarctic. Geesh, with as many bases as Umbrella has laying around, you'd think somebody would have found them out by now."

Alexis shifted to the next wooden crate and got to work picking and prying at the edges with her knife until they came loose.

" I don't think this is one of Umbrella's facilities," She announced suddenly, " My kidnappers were with HCF. I saw their logo on the way to my cell."

She blew a strand of blonde hair away from her eyes and lifted the lid off the crate.

This one contained nothing but roll after roll of projector film. What a bust.

" This one had projector film. You having any luck? " She turned to Steve hopefully.

His back was to her as he lifted the lid off yet another crate. This one came free with a loud _pop! _

" Not unless physics books have suddenly been considered lucky."

He turned around slowly to face Alexis, his expression unreadable.

" What do you know about HCF? " He asked out of the blue.

The question caught Alexis unprepared.

" All I know is that they are a rival company to Umbrella. That's probably why they kidnapped me in the first place. They must know I'm connected to Umbrella."

" You are? " Steve gushed, then caught himself, " Oh. That's right. Ashfords."

" My great grandfather was one of the original founders of Umbrella," Alexis supplied helpfully, " The Ashford name goes back…"

" Stop! Just stop! " Steve shot angrily. It was amazing how quickly he'd changed moods! His face had turned a light shade of red, and now she could see the anger lines starting to form across his features.

" I know all about the Ashfords, okay?! " Steve spat, " I've had a very bad experience with them, wanna hear? I spent what seemed like forever on their island prison listening to all the horrible stories about what happened to people once they were taken to the infirmary, and wondering when it would be my turn to die. When I finally got out, my friend and I were shot at by your crazy cross-dressing father! He chased us all over the island setting traps and sending creatures to kill us. But it didn't stop there, no. Once we finally managed to nab ourselves a plane to escape that crazy hellhole, it was only to find it jinxed by Alfred. He had locked it on an autopilot course for Umbrella's Antarctica base . He almost killed us there too. Then that thing that used to be an Ashford--your grandpa, I think--very nearly knocked me to an icy death off a landing platform. But the story doesn't end there. As if all that were not bad enough, your mother woke up from hibernation and mutated me into a big butt-ugly green monster with her virus. I came _this close_ to killing my best friend! " Steve held his fingers half an inch apart in demonstration. " The last thing I remember was going unconscious. So, yeah--I know all about Ashfords. In fact, you're the only one in your entire family who hasn't tried to kill me! "

Alexis was completely dumbfounded. Her family had done all _that?!_

No wonder Steve had been so angry. 

But still, his words wounded her in a way she couldn't describe. She felt horrible inside. 

Her whole life, she'd been raised to believe that she had a proud heritage. Veronica and other family names of her ancestors had been spoken with pride. She remembered listening to her caretaker Mrs. Phelps every night before bed as she proudly recounted some of the more daring tales of the past Ashfords. How they had managed the most amazing feats in the most trying of circumstances. How they had used their wits to outsmart the bad guys. Her own parents been the heroes in these bedtime stories more than once, and Mrs. Phelps had ended each tale saying how lucky Alexis was to be an Ashford. 

In fact, everything she'd heard about the Ashford family since she was a little girl was about how brave, noble, and intelligent they were.

Once when she was only eight years old, Alexis had asked her caretakers why she couldn't go to live with her father, Alfred, or at the very least visit him. They had gone all silent and gotten these weird looks on their faces. It had taken a moment before Mr. Rosken had finally answered that he didn't believe Alfred was sane enough to have visitors, much less a daughter to take care of.

_" He's been having a hard time coping with the sudden disappearance of your mother." _Mrs. Phelps had added, _" It about drove the poor guy insane. All he ever does is sulk about mourning for her. It isn't healthy. The government didn't find him fit to raise you."_

In fact, there was a lot about Alexis the government hadn't found out. Such as her inbred-ness. She had no real birth certificate, and all the official reports listed her as the illegitimate daughter of Alfred Ashford. Supposedly, nobody knew who her mother was.

But Mr. Rosken and Mrs. Phelps had, and she'd learned early on why she'd have to keep her true parentage a secret from everyone but the people she could trust.

But now…here Steve was making all these wild accusations about all horrible things her family had done.

She suddenly felt very defensive.

" You're wrong! My family wouldn't do that! "

Steve looked like she had just slapped him on the face.

" Oh really?! " He shot, " Everything I just told you is true! If you don't believe me, maybe you could fly to whatever's left of the Antarctic base and ask your grandfather. I'm sure he'd have some stories for you, namely how he was mutated by his own children, who, by the way, just happen to be your parents! "

Alexis couldn't have been more shocked if Elvis himself had just landed in front of them at the controls of an alien spacecraft.

" No…No! It's not true! " 

" Ever heard of that river in Egypt, _de-Nile_? I'm not lying to you! Your father even had torture chambers just so he could watch people suffer! Whatever you've been hearing about your parents--those are the lies! They were very bad people. And if you won't believe that then…then.." Steve was practically shaking with anger, " Then you're no better than they were, that's what! I was actually _there_. I know what was going on! "

" Oh, I would not be to sure about that." A new voice interrupted. 

Alexis turned to see none other than her brother Ash standing in the threshold; dressed in a blue soldier uniform with gold trim, blue gloves, and white pants. Save the blue part, it looked almost like the red and white uniform she remembered seeing pictures of her father wearing.

He had a rifle pointed at Steve's face.

" Ash! What are you doing here?! " Alexis cried. She rushed over and gave him a hug, happy to see him. 

He returned her greeting just as warmly before gently pushing her aside.

" You _know_ this guy?! " Steve asked, incredulous. His mouth hung open in a comical little 'o'.

Alexis smiled, " Yeah. This is my brother Ash. Ash, this is my friend Steve. You can put that rifle down now. He's not dangerous."

Ash snorted. " I can see that. He looks like he just got off the train to Loserville.

" Hey! " Steve returned hotly, " I do not! " To Alexis, he said, " You have a _brother?! _Why didn't you tell me? " 

" You never asked." Alexis gave Steve a lopsided grin. She was feeling much better. Ash was here, and now everything was going to be alright. 

She had always looked up to her brother, even though they seldom got to see each other. He always knew just what to do.

Reluctantly, Ash lowered the rifle. 

Alexis never noticed just how hatefully her brother was staring at Steve.

" Are you two twins? " Steve inquired, returning Ash's poisonous glare.

It was Alexis who answered. " No. Ash here is ten months older than me! He's almost sixteen, and in a couple of weeks I'll be fifteen."

" Nice, I'm sure. But are you really going to let him get away with all those wild accusations about our family? " Ash snarled.

Alexis's smile evaporated and was replaced with a frown. " Well, he did say some pretty awful things, but he also freed me from my cell. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't even be here! "

" Yeah, well now that I'm here, you don't need anymore help from the sissy-boy." Ash huffed in the same snobby tone his father had so often used.

" Sissy-boy! " Steve retorted, " That really hurts coming from Alfred's son! Shouldn't you be out trying on a new dress or something? "

Ash raised his rifle again in in an instant, burning with rage. " Oh, that's the last straw! "

He reached for the trigger and was stopped by Alexis pushing his rifle down.

" Please." She pleaded, " We don't have to hurt him. Let's just…go."

She grabbed Ash's arm and started out the door with him.

" Fine." Ash said with one final scowl at Steve, " But I'm warning you--we cross paths again, and he's dead! "

*****************************************

Steve just watched as the two Ashfords disappeared out the door. He heard them running down the hall, then there was the bang and clang of a door being opened and closed.

_Maybe I made the wrong choice after all. _He thought, burning with anger and hurt at the same time, _I let her out of her cell, then she's willing to ditch me for her jerk of a brother! Doesn't she even care?! What is wrong with those people?! Can't Alexis see now that her family is evil?_

Steve kicked a crate in anger. 

He didn't believe Alexis was bad, not really. She had stopped her brother from killing him, so she must have some type of a heart. But how could he make her see that he was right about her family? How could he open up her eyes to what was happening?

****************************************

Wesker sat in a comfy cushioned chair he'd pulled in from another room. He was sipping coffee casually from a very exquisite-looking mug, and enjoying watching a disheartened Claire sigh as she sank deeper and deeper into the pit of despair.

" Aw, what's wrong Claire? " He said with phony concern, " Worried about your brother? Don't be. I'm sure Alan'll have him here right on schedule."

Claire didn't respond, but just continued to stare at the floor.

She'd long lost any fight she'd had in her. There was no way she could get free from the metal cuffs, and she saw no reason to rile Wesker up. It was hard telling what he'd do if pushed far enough. He might decide not to keep up his end of the bargain, and Chris might end up coming in to see a large collection of Claire-bits lying all over the floor.

In fact, she'd halfway been expecting Wesker to start cutting her up with a scalpel the instant Alan had left the room.

But so far, he'd given no indication of wanting to do anything other than tease her. Which, hey, was bad, but not as bad as torture.

" How could you do that to your own son? " She said reflectively.

Wesker set his coffee cup down on the floor before replying. " Hey, I'm just trying to make a man out of him."

" By stripping him of his humanity? "

Wesker shrugged. " Whatever it takes. Besides, no son of mine is friends with a Redfield. I just can't allow that to happen."

" Oh, yes. That would be a tragedy." Claire returned sarcastically, " Tell me, why do you hate my brother so much? What did he do to you? "

Claire wasn't prepared for the intense snickering she heard.

" What, I have to make a list now? Sorry, but I don't have all night, you know."

Without warning, Wesker's micro-transmitter went off. 

He raised the hand that had the mini communication device strapped to his glove and listened.

" Wesker, do you read?" A voice on the other end asked.

" Loud and clear." Wesker answered. He waited to hear what the other man had to say.

" Sir, we've got a very big problem. Alexia is on this island, and we have every reason to believe she still has her super-virus."

" Don't play games with me!" Wesker barked, " Alexia is dead! She blew up in the Antarctic facility. I saw it with my own eyes."

" Yeah? Well you can tell that to her. She's very close by! We can see her on our cameras. Come look! "

" Fine. But if you're not being completely honest with me…"

Wesker let it hang and cut communications. His frown deepened. Someone had just thrown a rock into his perfect pool of confidence.

He got up and headed for the door.

" I have to go for awhile, but don't worry, I'll be back before Chris gets here." Wesker told Claire before he slipped out the door like an evil black shadow.

**************************************


	9. Of Puzzles and Ashford Family Affairs

It was cold inside the main HCF building despite the warm weather outside. It felt like they had left the air conditioning on or something. 

Chris was sauntering through one of the frigid metal corridors now, the place reminding him of a hospital. Everything was sanitary and great care had been taken to place each of the pictures hanging on the wall at just precisely the right angle in relation to the wall and each other. 

The fluorescent lights bathed the entire hallway in a dim glow, and Chris could see that the floor was swept and the whole place was looking rather tidy.

There was a vaguely unpleasant odor lingering in the air that he figured must be the leftover scent of the cleaners.

An eerie stillness hung in the air: it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

It all made Chris very uneasy. There was a certain wrongness about all this. It was much too quiet. He found himself thinking of the old adage: _' Just because the water is calm does not mean there are not crocodiles lurking below the surface. '_

To try to take his mind off of just how spooked he felt, he examined some of the portraits as he passed. Most were landscapes from remote places such as the Andes Mountains and Sahara Desert.

They were breathtakingly beautiful, but there was a job at hand and now was not the time to be distracted.

Ignoring the small doors he passed along the way, Chris followed the corridor around a corner and found himself standing in a very large reception area. There were chairs and sofas everywhere surrounding a large windowed office built into the wall. There were even T.V.s and magazines to keep waiting people entertained.

_Ok, this is starting to feel more and more like a hospital,_ he found himself thinking, _Probably their very own medical facility for personnel injured on the job. Maybe there are some injuries you just can't go to a normal hospital with without the whole world finding out that your company has been engaging in illegal activities._

Chris jumped about a foot high at the sound of a door cracking open. This was followed by a low melancholy moaning, and a zombie stumbled into the room--it's face and clothes dripping with fresh blood.

Acting on impulse, Chris fired three shots directly into the zombie's face.

It dropped like a sack of potatos, it's face decimated.

Seconds later, there was the unmistakable ungodly shriek of a hunter in the proximity. It must have heard the gunshots!

It sounded like it was still a few doors off in another room, but Chris didn't plan on waiting.

He headed for the nearest door to one of the side rooms and slammed it shut behind him once he was inside.

In all his life, he'd never regretted any on-the-spur-of-the-moment decision as much as he did that one.

The whole room was just loaded with zombies!

They were behind him, in front of him, and to both sides before he even knew what was happening. Their dead eyes seemed to glow with an eerie black flame--the lust for the kill.

Since they hadn't been dead long, they really didn't show any telltale signs of being zombies other than their basic appearance and behavior. They were still dressed in their work clothes. If it weren't for the bloody chunks they'd bitten out of each other's bodies, they could almost be mistaken for living people. Almost.

Arms outstretched, they lunged for the kill in a mindless trance.

There were so many of them! Chris knew instantly that if he turned around to go back the way he'd come he'd be dead. The zombies would be on him like mosquitoes on a camper who'd forgotten the repellent. There was only one thing to do.

Catching the forewardmost zombie in a spray of bullets, he shoved the soulless creature as hard as he could into it's buddies.

Just as he'd hoped, the clumsy zombies were mowed over like dominos. They now were on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

But that action had cost him precious time.

Cold hands closed in on his shoulders, ripping at his flesh. The zombies prepared to bit down.

" Sorry, but lunch has just been cancelled! " Chris threw defiantly as he lurched forward with all the spring he had in his muscles. He started for the door at the opposite end of the room, trampling the bodies of the less fortunate zombies underfoot.

Sharp nails scratched at him as he passed by shoving zombies out of his path before the slow-witted creatures had time to respond. He grimaced as a sharp pain shot through his right arm and two red lines appeared on his flesh.

He made it out the door seconds before an unusually quick zombie would've grabbed his back.

He slammed that door shut so hard it made the entire wall shake. But he couldn't stand propped against the door like this forever.

Chris scanned the room he was in; his brain processing information at supersonic speed.

Smallish break-room. Tables, chairs, microwave, T.V…..Chris's eyes fell on the gray double-doors of an elevator. Bingo. Those mindless corpses would never know how to operate one of those!

Spirits lifting, he made a beeline for the elevator and smacked the 'up' button.

The doors flew open.

From the next room, zombies moaned angrily. 

Chris darted in and studied the button panel. The button for the first floor was glowing a warm yellow. There were five floors and three basement levels this elevator would run to.

Right now, one floor was as good as another to Chris. He pressed the button for third floor just as the doors were closing. The elevator started it's ascent.

_That's the last time I just barge in on a room like I own it without even looking! _Chris mentally scolded himself, _It's reckless actions like that that are going to get me killed one of these days!_

He was feeling rather stupid for not remembering one of the basic rules he'd learned back in S.T.A.R.S. training: Never rush into a potentially hostile room without first looking and taking every necessary precaution.

' Be prepared for anything ' had always been their motto.

Chris certainly hadn't been prepared for a herd of bloodthirsty zombies.

The elevator came to an abrupt stop. The doors slid open with a ' whoosh ' and he found himself staring out into yet another crowd of zombies.

At the sound of the elevator door, they stopped feeding on each other and turned their hungry eyes to Chris.

" Wrong floor! _Definitely_ wrong floor! " Chris said aloud as he quickly hit the button to the first basement level. The doors shut just as the zombies began to move in.

He couldn't believe his luck. _This place is a regular zombie jamboree! What **happened **here? Well, other than T-virus spilling, obviously. Is it just me, or do chemical companies like Umbrella and HCF have butterfingers where deadly viruses are concerned? They really dropped the ball on this one._

When the elevator doors slid open this time, it was into a fairly large metallic room with few furnishings other than a mahogany desk, a cheery red sofa, and a very out-of-place looking refrigerator.

_Of course, _Chris though regarding the fridge, _because snack-attacks can strike anytime anywhere._

For a moment, he considered going over and opening it just out of curiosity. 

But only for a moment. 

Curiosity killed the cat, and whatever they were keeping in an oddly-placed fridge couldn't be of great importance, could it?

Chris shook the nagging doubt aside. He wasn't going to search that thing without a good reason.

Rapidly losing interest in the almost-empty room, he wandered over to the huge door with a giant painting covering the width of it. 

The image was painted right on to the metal of the door. It was a painting of a turbulent sea, with ominous-looking rocks in the background. It was done brilliantly, all in stormy shades of blue, gray, brown, and green. There seemed to be giant birdlike creatures perched on the distant rock clefts, but the painter had obscured them all in shadow so that only the blackened silhouettes could be seen.

Then something else caught Chris's attention.

A ship-shaped indention about the size of his fist was indented into the door, revealing an entirely gray area that almost blended in with the rest of the scene. It was a groove for something to be placed.

Thus, when he tried the door, he was not at all surprised to find it locked tight.

A mechanical buzzing emanated from the other side, like the sound of a supercomputer. 

Intrigued, he looked up above the door frame and for the first time noticed the words _' Main Systems Computer Center. Authorized personnel only. ' _

He frowned. _Another stupid puzzle. Looks like these guys took a leaf out of Umbrella's book after all._

Now it looked like he was going to have to find a crest in the shape of a ship if he wanted to get into this obviously important room. 

__

I'll bet that's where the triggering system is, too. They probably have hidden cameras and devices all throughout this place--finding Claire and Alan would be a cakewalk if I got access to the right systems.

" Okay." Chris thought aloud, " If I were a ship crest, where would I be? "

He looked around the room as if waiting for an answer.

Then it hit him: the desk. If there was any info at all in this room, it would be over there.

He quickly searched the wooden office furnishing and came up with two papers.

Luck was on his side, and one of the papers happened to be a memo on password to some of the supercomputer's most important programs.

The other appeared to be a map of B-3 with all of the rooms outlined and labeled.

One of those rooms in particular attracted his attention. It was labeled simply ' Myth Room. ' 

Something clicked in his brain. The painting on the door!

He rushed over and studied the turbulent ocean waves and stormy cliffsides again.

_Yes: ocean, cliffs, scary-looking creatures, ship…this must be a depiction from the Greek myth ' The Odyssey '!_

What kid hadn't had to study that back in school? The Homerian epic was famous in many circles.

Chris remembered reading about Odysseus's adventures back in ninth grade. This looked like the scene where the brave Greek heroes were sailing past the evil sirens who could lure sailors to their deaths just by singing to them. Of course, Odysseus's men had plugged their ears with wax and so had not been affected by the siren's song.

Chris smiled as he folded the papers into neat little squares and placed them into his pocket. He was feeling quite smug for finding the solution to his dilemma so quickly.

He had to find Odysseus's ship, and what better place was there to look for it than in the Greek Myth Room?

************************************** 

Steve wandered aimlessly down the halls, still upset from his earlier drama with the Ashford kids. _Just further proof that the Ashford family is a bad family and I'd be better off just forgetting all about them_. He kept telling himself over and over again.

Steve muttered some swearwords under his breath as he realized--and not for the first time--that he was walking around with the very real possibility of meeting a zombie or some other mutation with only a broken pipe for defense.

The crates back in that one room where Ash had made his appearance had proved to be totally useless unless he planned on hosting a fashion show.

_Any zombie approaches me, I'll give them a sharp thwack on the head! _Steve thought defiantly. 

But it was more to boost his own morale than anything else.

The pipe would be good for zombies, but if he ran into any hunters or those long-armed monsters he might as well be carrying a stick.

Not to mention the fact that these zombies were very fresh and the odds of him being able to muster enough strength to decapitate one with a pipe were next to none. He could smash their faces in, but that would be very gruesome and quite ineffective against any more than one zombie at a time.

_What I need is some firepower_. Steve thought purposefully.

Guns would be best.

It was a whole lot easier to simply shoot your way through zombies as opposed to beating your way through them.

Any kind of gun would do, though Steve was hoping against hope he'd find a nice set of machine guns something like the ones he'd had back at Rockfort.

There was no denying that he had an affinity for automatic weapon power. At Rockfort, the sub-machine guns had made him feel in control of the situation.

He liked being in control.

Lady Luck seemed to be smiling on him--he went through several rooms and hallways without incident.

However, all that changed once he entered the room with the huge marble statues.

Scarcely had he opened the door when a hunter flew into him claws first giving him a nasty cut on his shoulder on his way down to the linoleum.

Instinctively, he brought the pipe up to swat it, but it caught the blow midair with a blow of it's own and sent the pipe skittering across the floor in metallic clanks.

The sickly green creature drooled a white foamy substance from it's razor-toothed mouth. Red eyes blazing with hate, it raised it's deadly sickle-clawed hand for the death blow.

Two things happened at once then: Steve kneed up into the abomination's gut as hard as he could, and a flying brown blur knocked the hunter off him like a living bullet hitting it's target.

Steve scrambled up to see the hunter fighting with something that looked almost like a raptor dinosaur covered in brown fur.

" Sreeee!! Aiieeeeaaa!! Aaaooouu! " The creatures hissed and bellowed as they ripped into each other with claws and teeth, fighting over the prey.

They were about the same size and had about the same chance of winning, Steve figured, but he didn't plan on staying around to see which would come out ahead.

Quick as he could, he scooped up his pipe and ran to the nearest door like a bat out of Hell. Not a pleasant ordeal: his left shoulder throbbed and bled from a huge gouge slashing a good four inches down his arm. He was losing blood very quickly. It flowed down his arm in a long, sticky, red river staining his army shirt midnight red in places. 

But there was no time for that now. He had to make sure he put a safe distance between him and those monsters!

He blew through room after room, going through one room so fast that it's resident zombie didn't even notice he'd been by.

Finally, he came to a halt in a personal bedroom. He listened for a moment to make sure the beasts weren't following. 

After a moment or so of silence, he decided they weren't and began searching the room for a cloth to treat his wound. He found a small towel laying on a shelf in the bathroom, and was about to fashion a tourniquet when he noticed the bleeding had ceased. Fearing the worst, he rushed to the sink and washed the blood off his shoulder.

What he didn't see completely shocked him The wound was gone! Vanished. Not even a scratch to mark where it had once been. 

And the pain? What pain? The pain was gone.

" Whoa…how did I do that?! " Steve asked the mirror, howling with excitement, " How did I _do_ that?! Whoa, this is cool! I've got like, a superpower! "

He started laughing like a maniac. This was without doubt the most awesome thing that had ever happened to him! To be able to heal so quickly…he felt like a god. He felt in control. And it felt good.

_Must have something to do with Alexia's virus, _Steve reasoned, _Or whatever these people here were doing to me when I was out like a light._

His mood changed quickly. If he had super-fast healing abilities, what other powers might he have? 

Obviously, super-strength wasn't one of them, or else the hunter wouldn't have been able to take him down so easily.

But what about mental powers? Maybe he had some new power he'd overlooked altogether.

Steve came out of the bathroom almost whistling. It was time to find out just exactly what he was capable of.

****************************************** 

" I have a surprise for you." Ash told his sister as they passed through room after room, Ash in the lead.

" You have a surprise for me? What is it? " Alexis asked without her usual cheeriness. 

She was still upset a bit about the way Steve had been acting and the way her brother had reacted to that. It didn't make sense to her: if Steve was so convinced that all Ashfords were evil, why had he freed her from her cell? Well, sure, he _had_ took some convincing, but in the end it had been his choice. That must've took some trust on his part, and Alexis was starting to feel like she'd betrayed her new friend. 

Sure, Ash was her brother, and he meant a lot more to her than Steve did, but was it possible, even a little bit, that Steve had been right?

She didn't want to believe it, but ever since Steve's little ' speech', she got to thinking. It _was_ strange that her mother and grandfather had come up missing around the same time.

And she'd never gotten to see her father save a few brief occasions. She really didn't know much about him first hand. All she knew were the stories. Maybe he had torture chambers, and maybe he didn't.

_I guess I can check into that when I get the chance, _Alexis found herself thinking, _I want to know why someone would say something like that._

She stepped over the lifeless bodies of the zombies her brother had killed on his way to find her. They left a good trail…a disgusting and bloody trail, but a trail just the same.

" You remember how you always talked about wanting to meet Mom and Dad? " Ash said after a moment. He opened another door. " Here's your chance."

When Alexis first stepped into the red-carpeted room she could barley believe her eyes.

Alfred and Alexia sat in a little sofa at the corner of the room, looking as comfortable as if they owned the place. 

They smiled when she came in.

" I see you've found her. Nice work Ash." Alexia's voice was soft and cheery, " I've been waiting a long time to see how you'd turn out, Alexis. Come have a seat." Alexia patted the empty cushion in the middle of the sofa.

Trying not to show just how excited she really was, Alexis went over and sat between her parents.

Ash just closed the door behind him and went over to sit at a small coffee table and where he began sipping from a pop he'd bought earlier and left on the table.

Alexis just stared at her parents.

Alfred looked just the way she'd remembered him--all prim and proper with his blonde hair cut short and his usual gold-trimmed red and white soldier's uniform covering his lean form. 

Alexis had never seen any pictures of Alexia when she was past the age of fifteen, but now she could see that her mother was in fact very beautiful and bore a strong resemblance to her. She was well proportioned and had very classy features. Furthering her aristocratic look was her black evening gown with which she wore long white gloves that reached up to her elbows. Her hair was the same tawny yellow as Alfred's, and her eyes were the same icy blue.

Upon looking at her brother Ash, Alexis could see that he--as well as she herself--both possessed the traditional blonde hair blue eyes trait. 

Okay, so maybe Ash's hair was a shade darker blonde than everybody else's, but it was so easy to see that the four Ashfords were related.

Alexia put a hand to Alexis's face and caressed her daughter's cheek a bit.

They were now eye-to-eye, and Alexis could barely contain her excitement. After all this time she was finally getting a chance to meet her mother! It was like a dream come true.

" I trust you know who I am? " Alexia said after a moment had gone by and Alexis still had not said anything.

" I know who you are, Mother." Alexis managed. She had never been so tongue-tied.

" I'm glad we found you before someone else did." Alfred announced happily. He set a hand on her lap. " There's a lot of weirdos prowling around here. Not to mention the virus carriers." 

Alexia suddenly stood up and stretched. " Well, now that all the Ashfords have been reunited, it's time to take care of Phase Two of our plan."

" My favorite phase." Ash managed between mouthfuls of Twinkie.

There were a couple of vending machines in this room--it seemed to be a lounge or break-room of sorts--and Alexis could see where her brother had gotten his treats.

She was feeling a bit peckish herself, but decided to wait until she heard her mother's plans before she helped herself to the goodies.

" Phase Two? " Alexis echoed.

" We find the triggering system and blow this island--as well as anyone foolish enough to still be on it--clear to the moon! "

Dread clutched Alexis's heart.

" But…my friend Steve…won't he have a chance to get off? "

Alexia's cheerful mood changed as quickly as if it were a channel that had been switched.

Alfred stood and straightened, a frown deepening on his face.

" Steve? As in Steve Burnside? " Alfred sounded positively ferocious.

" Yeah, I think. I didn't catch his last name, but he was the one who helped me escape from my prison."

On the other side of the room, Ash wadded a Twinkie wrapper with vicious intensity.

" That jerk I found you with? The one who said I should be out trying on dresses? I think he knows too much."

" Too much about what?! " Now Alexis was worried. Why did her family seem to have it in for Steve?

" I know he knows too much." Alexia agreed, " I wasn't even aware that inferior ponce was still alive! "

" He knows about Nosferatu." Ash supplied.

" Nosfer-what-two? " Alexis's question was duly ignored.

" I can't allow him to survive! " Alexia raged, clenching her fists into tight balls, " If there's even a chance of him getting off this island…"

" He won't. We'll stop him." Alfred cut in, his eyes burning with hatred, " You don't just shoot Alfred Ashford like that and get away with it! "

Alexia turned to her son.

" Ash, do you think you could take me to where you last saw him? It seems I have a loose-end to tie up."

" I'm coming too! " Alfred declared.

Alexia's scowl changed his mind.

" No, your presence will not be required as I am quite confident I can kill jerk-boy all by myself. I want you and Alexis to look for the triggering system. We'll all meet back in this room in one hour."

" But…" Alexis started, but she was too late. Alexia and Ash were already out the door.

Alfred turned and motioned for Alexis to follow him out the opposite end.

" Looks like it's just me and you now. Isn't this great? Our first father-daughter mission! " 

By now, Alexis was a flood of emotions, mostly confusion and grief. Something had happened between her friend and family, and though she didn't know exactly what, it must have been pretty major if Steve had shot her father over it.

But why would Steve fight her family in the first place? All she had to go by was his outrageous story about prisons and torture chambers.

But, as Alexis followed her father out into the unknown, she was starting to think that maybe Steve's story wasn't so far fetched after all.

******************************************


	10. The truth is revealed! Chris learns Alan...

Alan frowned when he passed a clock in the hallway he was heading down. It was past 5:30. Almost an hour had gone by since his dad had made the threat, and now he only had two hours to get his friend down into the basement level where he was likely to be killed.

He had already gone back to the Research Clinic to look for Chris, all the while keeping an eye out for Tyrant. He had even managed to find a paging system and page the S.T.A.R.S. member, but to no avail. If Chris had been anywhere in that particular Research Clinic, he would have heard and answered.

So, thinking of no better place to search, Alan had gone back to the main building.

He had encountered a few monsters and zombies along the way, but they had been easy to kill or escape. At least he hadn't come across any of those hunters or Tyrant.

The memory made him wince. He was not at all looking forward to another encounter with that thing.

_If I were Chris, where would I be? _Alan asked himself silently. 

The question was not easy to answer. He barely knew Chris Redfield and was not at all familiar with his habits. But it was reasonable to assume he'd be looking for Claire.

Now he was sweeping the first floor in his search.

He'd gone almost the entire length of the building with only the moans of the occasional zombie to keep him company when he entered a lobby. 

A dead zombie decorated the floor lying in a huge bloody pool. It was fatally wounded by gunshots to the head.

This was a clue. Zombies didn't just shoot themselves and since Claire was incapacitated at the moment, it left only Chris or Wesker as possible killers unless someone else was around.

It was unlikely that Wesker had come this way, so Alan figured there was pretty good chance that this was Chris's kill.

His eyes scanned the room, looking for anymore clues.

Nope. None. 

Casually, he walked over to a door in the side of the room and pulled it open. 

Just as quickly, he closed it.

The room was teaming with zombies!

_Nobody would be stupid enough to try and go in there! _Alan's logic pointed out, _He must have went some other way._

There was no way to go through that room without shooting several zombies and emptying several clips of ammo.

When Alan turned, it was to see a hunter standing directly in front of him!

He raised his gun, preparing for the attack and ready to fire, but the monster didn't move an inch.

It just stood hunched over with deadly white-clawed hands dangling to either side of it's mutated ape-like body. It's mouth was open slightly and salivating, and it's red eyes were locked onto Alan. 

Yet it didn't move.

It seemed to be waiting for something.

Alan kept the gun aimed but did not open fire.

_It's not attacking me, I'm not going to give it a reason to. These things are hard to kill with handgun bullets and in such close quarters it'd be likely to slice me open within my first couple shots, _Alan thought, _Wait a minute. Earlier back Dad said he had control over these. Is it possible they recognize me as being one of his?_

The theory was appealing, and it would be well worth finding out. 

" Go! " Alan demanded, mustering up his best giving-orders-to-hunters voice.

He pointed to the doors he'd first came through.

Much to his surprise, the hunter turned and ran off in that direction obediently until it was behind several doors and out of sight.

_Okay, that turned out rather well._

No sooner had he completed the thought than there was a terrible crashing noise behind him like someone was trying to bulldoze their way right through the wall.

He spun around on a dime to see Tyrant staring at him from a smashed doorway; splinters of wood raining down around him.

" Seriously man, did you miss the invention of the doorknob? " Alan shot.

The thing just glared at him menacingly with those horrible bloodred eyes.

Alan shrank back a bit, more than a little scared. He was terrified.

" Um…I don't suppose you take orders from my dad too, do you? "

Tyrant crouched a bit, preparing to charge in that insanely fast way of his.

" Didn't think so."

He waited until he was almost sure the monstrosity was ready to go, then stepped out of it's way.

Tyrant blew past in an ugly blur. It sounded like a train had hit the reception desk.

Wasting no time, Alan raced down the hallway connecting to the lobby and darted into the first room he came to.

A zombie grabbed his shoulder. He used that to his advantage and rammed the virus carrier so hard it went sprawling across the bed of the personal dormitory he was in.

" I s_o_ do not have time for you! " He spat, as if the zombie could actually comprehend what he was saying.

Not far off, he could hear the Tyrant thundering after him.

Desperate, he threw open the room's laundry chute and crawled on in. It was just big enough, but it was a direct drop.

" Yikes! " Alan yelped as he found himself falling face first down a dark shaft.

After what seemed like falling a mile down in total darkness, he hit something soft.

Almost immediately, he heard the click of a gun being cocked.

" Don't shoot! " He lifter his face up from the dirty fabric of the laundry to see a very amused Chris smirking at him.

" Alan?! " He was laughing as he lowered the gun, " What the heck happened to you? "

" Tyrant." Alan mumbled as he pulled himself out of the laundry bin. He plucked a pair of underwear off his head and threw it down in disgust. " That thing doesn't know when to quit. And what's even more insulting is I didn't even hear it sneaking up on me. How can something that big just sneak around like that? I feel like I must need hearing-aids or something. By the way, where are we? "

The room they were in now appeared to be some sort of gigantic washroom with several laundry chutes each leading to different medium-sized laundry bins. Washers and driers were all around in neat little rooms. None appeared to be functioning.

" We're in B-3. " Chris flashed a grin as he pulled out a map. " Got the map to this level. We need to get to the Greek Myth room. I found this door to a very important room, but I need a ship crest to get in. Since it's the ship from ' _The Odyssey' , _I figured the Greek Myth room would be the best place to search."

" A reasonable assumption." Alan answered. He considered telling Chris everything right then and there. 

" Chris, I…" He stopped, faltering. What if this was the wrong choice? What if Chris didn't believe him? What if, what if…his mind fogged up with doubt. It wasn't quite six yet. He still had a little time to think things through.

Chris eyed him suspiciously. " What? What is it? "

" Nothing." Alan muttered, trying not to sound like he had something to hide, " I'm just glad I found you."

" Yeah, well we have to find Claire. There's a madman on the loose around here and she could be in danger."

Chris turned and started for a little wooden door on the opposite end of the room. Alan followed, anxiety rising. 

" Madman? " He tried to make it sound like a casual question.

" Yes. He goes by the name of Wesker. Maybe Enrico told you about him? He used to be captain of S.T.A.R.S. before he betrayed us. He has some kind of virus or something that makes him very powerful and fast. And he wants me dead. We're going to have to be very careful."

" Sounds like it." But Alan was wondering how Chris had found out about Wesker being here. 

_Probably came across some paper somewhere. Yeah, that has to be it._

If a confrontation had occurred, it was very doubtful he and Chris would be having this conversation.

Chris opened the small wooden door and flicked the light switch. Light flooded over a stone staircase descending into water that went almost halfway up to yet another door at the bottom.

" Well, this shouldn't be a problem." Chris proclaimed as he started down.

Alan was less enthusiastic. " Yeah, if you're a fish." He muttered, following.

Alan was not prepared for Chris's sudden pause at the door and nearly collided with him.

" What's the holdup? "

" Nothing. It's just that the last time I went into a flooded basement there were a bunch of sharks in the water." Chris said reflectively.

" And you're thinking that maybe history will repeat itself? "

Chris didn't answer, he just opened the door.

" Sweet." Alan mumbled.

Sharks. Just what they didn't need. And it wasn't helping the already tense teenager cope with the fact that his friends' lives were in his hands. He wasn't in a particularly good mood, and it seemed like bad news just kept popping up everywhere.

The whole room that they stepped into was flooded. The fluorescent lights kept fading in and out, casting the area in various shades of shadow and light. A huge broken aquarium was the highlight of the room.

" I don't even want to know what was in there." Chris announced dryly as he waded up to his waist in the water; starting for the door that the map said led into the Greek Myth room.

" Then you probably shouldn't look behind you! " Alan yelled as a huge dorsal fin broke the stillness of the water.

" Shark! Man, I hate being right about these kinds of things! " Chris spewed.

The dark torpedo shape started after him.

Chris fired into the water a few times sending up sprays of white foam.

The shark didn't seem to notice.

Thinking quickly, Alan drew a grenade from his side pack , pulled the pin, and tossed the thing into the water directly in front of the shark.

The water suddenly exploded in a spray of red and white as the shark reared it's damaged head .

Now Alan was wading through, quickly gaining on Chris.

" Nice work! " His comrade cheered, but it was bit too soon for celebration.

The shark was up and gaining fast!

Now it was Chris's turn to pull a grenade from his side pack.

" Watch out! " He yelled as he threw the grenade for the shark.

Alan moved safely out of the way, but like an idiot the shark opened it's jaws and snatched the grenade in it's oversized mouth.

The result was instantaneous. 

Chunks of shark meat exploded from the water and rained down in a spray of crimson. A piece hit Chris's shirt.

" Hey! How come none of this stuff ever hits you? " 

" I'm just lucky, I guess." But deep down, Alan was feeling anything but lucky. Should he tell Chris or try to think of something else? He felt like screaming. The clock was ticking and he didn't know what to do!

Chris waded into the Greek Myth room with Alan right behind him. On impulse, Alan shut the door. Just in case.

The Greek Myth room was much larger than a large living room and the marble walls were lined with pictures of Greek heroes and heroines, gods and goddesses, monsters and lambs. Many of these figures were also depicted in the form of large statues posed throughout the room which was split into two separate sections by a huge marble wall jutting over halfway out. Other than the statues and pictures, they really couldn't see much because the floor was under three feet of water.

" Okay, so what should we be looking for? " Alan asked while he studied a painting of Hercules throttling an enormous lion.

" A little wooden or metal ship cut-out about this big." Chris held his hands apart indicating about the size of a small dinner plate, " I sure hope it's not under the water."

" Me too." Alan began inspecting the pictures closer.

One was of Zeus and Hera: King and Queen of Olympus.

Another portrayed the Trojan horse. 

Yet another had the image of a huge seven-headed hydra guarding a golden fleece.

So far, none of the portraits appeared to have a certain order or pattern.

Chris was examining the statues, moving from one to another in the order in which they caught his fancy. No apparent order to them, either.

" We should probably be looking for stuff from _'The Odyssey.' _" Chris pointed out, " After all, it is Odysseus's ship."

_Okay, Odyssey_. Alan remembered that from school. He searched around until he found a picture of Odysseus's ship sailing past Scylla and Charybdis.

" Hey Chris, I think I found something."

" Really? " The water sloshed and churned as Chris made his way over to where Alan was standing., " Let me see."

There was a ship in the painting alright, and it was in the same position as the ship from the door to the Main Computer Systems room. About the same size, too.

" Hmm." Chris reached out and pressed on the painted ship. It sunk into the picture, and the whole painting moved aside to reveal a secret compartment in which a small wooden ship was laying.

" I knew it! " He barked gleefully, " There's always something up with the portraits !"

Alan was about to ask Chris what he meant when an earsplitting roar interrupted.

Both men froze, suddenly feeling very nervous.

" I think we should be heading back now." Chris said.

" I think that's a good idea." Alan agreed.

***************************************************** 

Wesker strode through the passages of B-3 muttering to himself about how unfortunate the situation was.

As it turned out, not only were both Alexia and her mentally disturbed brother at this facility, but their teenaged son as well. Worse, they had somehow managed to free their daughter Alexis, and now there was a whole gaggle of Ashfords on the loose. It only added to his frustration.

That, and the fact that HCF's few survivors--all of them were Wesker's underlings--had seemed to be in a state of total panic and therefore could not be heavily relied upon to carry out orders. From them he had learned just how serious the situation was.

All the B.O.W.s were now free to roam the island. Zombies were everywhere, and a couple of tyrants had escaped. Not the natural order of things. And most of them were blaming the Ashfords.

Wesker had tried to calm them down a bit by saying that the situation was being handled and he would be contacting them shortly with arrangements to leave the island.

Of course, he purposely failed to mention that the only escape arrangements he would be making would be for himself. Let those peons take care of their own problems. He had bigger fish to fry. Namely the destruction of Chris Redfield.

Wesker was on his way to the elevator that would take him back up to B-1 when he heard some shouting and the opening and closing of some doors. He strained to listen and could just make out Chris's voice along with Alan's.

He smiled in spite of himself. At least _that_ was going to plan.

He glanced at his watch. It was a quarter past six. It would be a killer to wait until seven-thirty. Perhaps he could just follow them around for awhile? Without their knowledge, of course.

It would be most interesting to see how his son would act under such circumstances. And it was not like Claire would be going anywhere soon.

Decided, Wesker adjusted his shades and headed for the sounds of Chris and Alan.

************************************** 

Chris sighed in relief when he set foot upon dry floor--ship crest held firmly in his hand.

But as happy as he was to be out of the water, Alan did not feel at all relieved. _I have to do it. I have to tell him. It's the only way I have even a chance of saving them both. Besides, Chris is older and more experienced than me. Maybe he'll pick up on something I may have overlooked._

Alan followed Chris up the stairs and through a few doors while he thought about how to word his speech. 

They had just entered a room labeled 'Automatic Supplies Room' when Alan gently grabbed Chris by the shoulder in a gesture for him to stop.

There were no monsters in this room, now would be the perfect chance.

" What?! " Chris jumped as if he'd been grabbed by a zombie.

He turned to face Alan, his features twisted into a classic look of both surprise and suspicion.

Alan frowned. This wasn't going to be easy.

" Look, Chris, there's something I have to tell you. I don't know how you're going to take this, but the truth is--I'm Wesker's son."

Chris raised his eyebrows, but he actually didn't look all _that_ surprised.

" You…you've gotta be kidding me! " He gushed.

" I'm not." Alan said point-blankly. He reached into his pocket, fetched his sunglasses, and slid them on. " Remind you of anyone? Now, before you decide to do anything drastic, just listen to what I have to say. I know where your sister is. I came upon her earlier when we were separated. She needs our help. Da….I mean…Wesker, has her chained up in a torture chamber. Don't worry, she's alright. For now."

" So this was all a setup? " Chris raged. He aimed a punch for Alan's face.

Alan dodged in the nick of time, and the blow connected only with empty air.

_Oh, this is so not going how I had hoped!_

" No! I swear, I'm on your side! I had nothing to do with any setups! "

Initial half-shock had been replaced with anger. Alan could see it all over Chris's face.

Chris was not convinced. " Why should I believe you?! "

" Because! " Alan challenged, " I'm the only one who wants to save Claire as much as you do! If you really care about her, you'll listen to what I have to say."

Chris relaxed about one hair. He was still glaring at Alan distrustfully.

" If you like Claire so much then why didn't you do something? " His voice was getting calmer now, but it was still about as gentle as iron nails.

" You think I didn't try?! " Alan shot back, " Of course I tried to help her! But you see, my dad was there, too, and I don't think superhuman viruses run in the family. If they do, it skipped a generation because I totally got my butt kicked! My father more or less told me that he was going to kill Claire unless I brought you to him by seven-thirty. He said that if I did, he'd let Claire go, but I don't really believe him."

Chris's anger seemed to fade away. A kind of awkward, sorry expression took it's place.

" Really? " He managed, almost seeming embarrassed by his earlier behavior.

" Well, I'm certainly not making any of it up." Alan replied, tension slipping away from his voice. This was good. Chris was staring to come around, and maybe they could think of a way to free Claire without anyone having to get killed.

" Just because I'm Wesker's son doesn't mean I'm in cahoots with him. In fact, if I didn't consider you a friend, why would I bother telling you any of this? I could simply turn you over to my dad and be done with it. He'd be very pleased with me, I'm sure. But no, I wanted to save both Claire _and_ you, so I decided to let you in on the loop. I know you can't stand my dad. I knew you probably wouldn't trust me if you ever learned the truth about me, that's why I kept my secret up until now. But now circumstances are desperate, and the truth of the matter is: I just can't find a way out of this without anyone getting killed. I need your help. There's no one else I can trust."

Chris was speechless for a whole ten seconds. He looked utterly amazed, as if he didn't quite know what to say. Then a small smile lit up his face. He understood.

" Well, since you put it that way, yeah. I guess you can trust me."

" Truce? " Alan held out his hand.

" Truce." Chris agreed. He grabbed Alan's hand and shook it. 

It was short-lived.

It was lucky that they were almost in the center of the room, because just then the door flew open with such force it sounded like a thunderbolt had hit.

Wesker was standing in the threshold, arms crossed and looking mightily p%*#ed off.

" Oh, I don't think this truce is going to last long." He growled in a dangerously low voice, " No. I can't see it lasting for more than ten seconds."

*******************************************


	11. A Long Awaited ReunionAlexis Has Some Th...

****

Chapter 11

Steve grumbled a bit as he entered the next room. Despite all his hopes, it seemed that rapidly quick healing was his only special ability. No telekinesis or pyrokenesis or any of the sort.

It was still a pleasant surprise that he had such fast healing ability, and he was far from disappointed, he'd just thought he might have something…more.

For the longest time, he'd been wandering around testing his limits while looking for more firepower. He'd found a couple of clips for a 9mm, for all the good that did him without a gun. Still, he'd hung onto them just in case.

The next room Steve entered looked almost like a workshop and was filled with all kinds of tools from screwdrivers to saws. A bright, shiny ax with a rather handsome wooden handle hung from two strategically placed nails on the wall.

Without a moment's hesitation, Steve ditched the pipe for the ax. Now he had a slightly better weapon should he run into trouble.

For a brief instance, an image of Alexis flashed in his mind.

He turned back for the way he'd come, quickly pushing such thoughts aside. She'd chosen her path, now she was no longer his concern.

Still, the memory embittered him.

Steve was just about to step out into yet another corridor when he thought he heard someone's voice.

He froze, waiting for it to resound.

Now he could hear it again: a faint mumbling coming from a not-so-far-off room to the left. He was amazed he should be able to hear it at all.

_Maybe this is my other special ability_, he thought with excitement, _super-hearing! _True or not, he just had to go and investigate where that sound was coming from.

He ran down the hall until he came to a flight of stairs descending downward. There he stopped to listen again, hopes rising with each breath.

There it was again--a female voice, strangely familiar. He couldn't quite make out the words; whoever it was, they were talking in a very low voice.

Tingling with excitement, he descended the stairs and opened the door to the mystery room.

A pretty face looked up to greet him.

Steve recognized her immediately. He couldn't believe it!

" Claire! " He squealed with delight, " It's you! "

" Steve?! " The frown Claire had been wearing when Steve had first entered evaporated completely when first recognition, and then utter happiness registered. Her smile seemed to light up the whole room. " I thought you were dead! "

" Yeah, well, so did I. So, do you talk to yourself much? I heard your voice, and that's how I knew there was someone down here."

He was at her side in a moment, noting her predicament.

Claire gave him a shy smile. " Yeah, well I wasn't so much talking to myself as just thinking aloud. We have a lot of catching up to do. But first, you have to help me out of here before Wesker gets back."

" Wesker? " Steve cocked an eyebrow, totally lost.

Claire sighed. _That's right, I don't think he ever met Wesker. Lucky him. _" Never mind. Long story short, he's bad news. And he's trying to use me as bait to lure my brother into a trap. He could be back any second! "

" Well then, I guess I'd better bust ya outta here." Steve replied smugly, and Claire had to smile. Same old arrogant Steve she remembered from Rockfort.

Steve's eyes fell on Claire's metal cuffs, and the chains connecting them to the wall.

Claire instantly knew what he meant to do, and she wasn't so sure she liked the idea.

" Think you could stretch your chains out a bit? " Claire's worries were confirmed at the suggestion. Nevertheless, she didn't see any other way out. Slowly, she complied to his request and stretched the chains out as far as they would go against the wall. Her worry intensified when she saw how far this was--less than a foot. That didn't leave Steve much margin for error.

" Um, Steve, are you sure you can…"

" What's the matter Claire? Don't you trust me? " Steve paused a moment, ax held up in a striking pose.

Claire felt her eyes moistening. No! She couldn't start crying in a time like this! But she just couldn't stop the tears from coming. They flowed down her cheeks like miniature rivers.

Now Steve was upset. " Oh Claire, I didn't mean to…" He began.

" Of course I trust you! " Claire reassured her friend, " It's just that, I never thought I would see you again and…and…"

" So that's a happy cry then? "

" Yes, dummy! " Claire returned, composing herself in a more dignified manner, " Now swing that ax and cut me loose!"

Steve swung the ax in a slow-motion move for the chain, making a mental note of the ax's position in relation to the chain and with just how much force he would need to make it a successful strike.

_Okay, I can do this. _He thought as he prepared the sharp-bladed ax for the real swing. 

Claire was trying to be brave, but he could still read the fear in her eyes. Everything counted on him making the perfect hit.

Steve swung the ax. Sparks flew, and there was there was the clank of metal on metal.

The chain, not Claire's arm, snapped neatly in two.

" Good one! " Claire praised, " Now for the other one." She held her breath as Steve repeated the procedure for her other arm, then on the chains holding her ankles.

Each hit was perfect.

As soon as she was free, Claire embraced Steve in a hug.

He was so startled he dropped the ax.

Their lips met.

Claire could've lost herself forever in that kiss. It was as if all the bad stuff that had been happening in the past twenty-four hours had suddenly just melted away and it was just her and Steve.

It was a nice thought, but it didn't last for long.

Being trapped on a dangerous island overtaken by T-virus and a superhuman psycho and knowing that you and those you cared about could very easily be killed had a way of gripping the mind.

Reluctantly, she pulled away and started for the door. " We have to find Chris before Alan or Wesker do. We can play fill-in-the-blanks on the way."

" Sounds good to me." Steve agreed as he retrieved his fallen ax and followed Claire out of the miserable torture room.

*****************************

Alexis had never felt so topsy-turvy in her life. Before, everything had been so simple, so meaningful. And though she hadn't quite found her niche in life yet--there would still be plenty of time for that--her almost clear path had just been shrouded in uncertainty. 

She'd always thought of her family as being the good guys, but now she wasn't so sure. And if she could no longer be sure about that, what could she be sure of?

_I have to know. I have to find the truth. _She had been walking right behind Alfred, and was so immersed in her thoughts that when he suddenly put on the brakes she almost rammed right into him.

A zombie staggered out in front of them. One well-aimed shot to the temple from Alfred, and it was down before it could utter it's first guttural moan.

" Pathetic! " Alfred sneered, " I never could stand these inferior creatures. All they are is walking corpses. I can't believe they were part of the product of my father's genius. Wait a minute, yes I can! " 

Alexis about had to cover her ears at the sound of her father's maniacal laughing. _Oh my god, he sound like a little girl! He sounds gay! And what's so funny, anyway?_

" Um, Dad? You might not want to overdo it on the laugh, kay? I'm standing right here."

Alfred cast his daughter a disapproving look before turning his head away, as if to shrug. He lowered his new sniper rifle to his side and continued on in the direction of the nearest elevator.

Alexis was right by his side.

" You know, some of my people once scoffed at my laugh. They told me I sounded like a girl. They even had the audacity of accusing me of being gay behind my back! I simply explained to them…well, actually, I didn't do much explaining to them because I killed them."

Alexis was taken aback. " You _what_ now? " 

" I killed them." Alfred repeated, and there was not a shred of remorse in his voice. They reached the elevator, and Alfred pressed the down button. " You know, guillotine and such. Even tortured some of them. They were vermin and deserved to die like vermin."

" You had _torture chambers_?! " Alexis gasped.

Alfred looked mildly insulted. " What do you mean _had_? I still have them! I can show you once we get home."

The Ashfords stepped in, and Alexis watched her father punch the B-1 button. She was not liking what she was hearing. Sure. Nobody liked being dissed, but torturing and killing someone just because they had made fun of you seemed a bit extreme.

" You killed people just for making fun of you? "

" Why not? I've killed for far less. Oh, by the way, did I tell you the good news? " Alfred went on, as if the whole torturing and killing topic were nothing more than casual conversation, " Alexia and I have made arrangements, and from now on you and Ash will be living with us. Isn't that grand? We'll finally be together, the world's most genetically superior family! "

Alexis was not happy. In fact, she was starting to feel rather sick.

" What..what happened to Grandfather? " She asked, not really sure she wanted the answer.

For a moment, the hum of the descending elevator was her only reply.

A sour expression overtook Alfred's features. " Alexander? I'd rather not waste my breath on that wanker. He was useless, and he got what was coming to him."

" How could you say that about your own father? " Alexis demanded, hurt.

Alfred didn't even look at her. " Because it's true! Umbrella didn't start to fall until _he_ became family master. He was responsible for the decline of our family's name. So your mother decided to put him to some use and test her experimental virus on him. I helped, of course, but the experiment didn't go quite as we had hoped and we had to lock him in the basement. There he stayed for fifteen years. I'm not sure what's become of him now--I assume he died when our Antarctic facility was destroyed. Believe me, it would be an improvement."

There was a loud ' ding ' and the elevator doors slid open.

Alexis was halfway out into a metallic room with few furnishings when her father suddenly put a hand on her shoulder.

Startled, Alexis spun around, prepared to run or even fight if need be.

She relaxed a bit when she realized it was just her dad.

Their eyes met.

Alfred seemed a bit disturbed about something.

" You...you feel remorse? For someone you've never met? " He gushed, as if the concept were new to him.

Alexis nodded sadly.

" Why? "

" I..I'm just thinking how terrible it must be for the people you trust and care about the most to suddenly turn on you. I mean, I know how horrible I would feel if Mr. Rosken or Mrs. Phelps suddenly decided to do something like that to me."

" If they did, you could rest assured that Alexia and I would have their heads for it! " Alfred declared, totally missing the point.

" No! That's not what I mean! " Alexis argued, " I mean I'd feel betrayed."

Alfred shrugged. " I suppose you would."

" And, you're okay with that? You think it's all right to betray people who love you and trust you? "

" Hey! " Alfred shot, " I never said your grandfather loved or trusted me! "

" Yeah, but you never said he didn't." Alexis pointed out, " I've heard about him, and he didn't seem like such a horrible man. I don't think he deserved what you and Mom did to him."

" You don't know the circumstances! " Alfred snarled, " You weren't even there! And you have much to learn about the world, daughter. Nice guys get nowhere. Compassion, mercy, loyalty…you're better off without all that sentimental slip-slop. Never did me any good! "

" Did you even try? " Alexis pried, " I mean, you're loyal to my mother, aren't you? You love her, right? "

For once, Alfred didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth as if to answer, then closed it just as quickly, biting his lip. He was caught totally off guard.

" Well…yes, but that's different." He said at last.

Alexis was not convinced. " Really? How? How do you determine who deserves your love and who doesn't? "

Alfred was getting very annoyed very quickly. " Look, we don't have time for a morality lesson, okay? We have a job to do, and not much time to do it in. And you shouldn't feel bad about hurting or killing people. That's what life's all about--pain. You're either on the giving or receiving end, and quite frankly I've found it' s better to inflict hurt than to be hurt. It can even be fun, in fact. Once we get back home, I'll show you what I mean."

Having said that, he turned and headed to a door with a huge painting on it.

Alexis just watched, mentally conceding.

_It's no use, you can't reason with the unreasonable. _She figured, _I'm never going to be able to change him. Not yet, anyway. But I have to stop my family from blowing this island to smithereens before I'm sure Steve made it off okay. I owe him that much._

Her mind swimming, Alexis tried to pull together some type of a plan. She had to have her family's trust, at least for now. It would probably be best to just pretend to go along with whatever they said. That would be the smart way to play it, and she might even learn some valuable information along the way.

No sooner had she decided than her father's sudden angry outbursts interrupted the silence.

" Great! Just great! Sodding door wont open without the sodding crest! Oh well. I'm sure Alexia won't let a little thing like a locked door stand in her way. She could probably just break it down or something."

" You found the room with the triggering system? " Alexis asked.

" According to the map I did." Alfred frowned. " With all the doors they had unlocked, you'd think these simpletons would've left this one unlocked, too. But no. That would make far too much sense. They had to run off with the freak'in crest! No matter, Alexia will figure it out. We'd best be getting back to the meeting room and wait for her and Ash."

" Good idea." Alexis agreed with one final glance at the door to note the shape of the missing crest. She was already accepting the fact that everything she thought she knew about her parents was wrong. She'd been brought up in a world of lies, and now it was time for her to separate fact from fiction.

************************************** 


	12. Kitty

****

Chapter 12

" Wow. I can't believe they would do that." Claire stated once Steve had filled her in on everything that had happened since he'd waken up, including Alexis and Ash.

" Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction, too." Steve agreed, " Although, after reading some of Alfred's little diaries, I guess it shouldn't come as quite a shock. I mean, the guy was obviously mentally disturbed. And he had a very unnatural obsession with his sister."

" Who knew it would lead to incest? " Claire cut in, " I'm actually kind of surprised Alexia would reciprocate such feelings. It's just not right." She made a face in demonstration.

" From what I've gathered, not much about those two _was_ right. And I could tell from meeting him that their son is equally disturbed. But Alexis…I don't know. She doesn't really strike me as being evil or mean spirited. Stubborn, maybe. She just can't seem to accept the fact that her parents were cold-blooded killers."

Claire was silent for a moment . When she did speak, her voice was cool and understanding.

" Well, I guess that's not so hard to understand. Everyone wants to think the best of their families. She's just going to have to learn on her own."

There was a bit more silence as the two friends continued on their aimless journey through room after room. Some were empty, others required darting past the undead residents before they could take that first bite. All along the way, both were looking for better weapons and clues that might lead them to Chris.

" So," Steve ventured, " Let me see if I have your events sorted properly: Alexia was killed by your brother by means of linear launcher, the Antarctic facility is pretty much history, and you and your brother have taken to hiding for the time being. Then, two weeks after the whole Antarctic fiasco, you get a tip that HCF is building a better virus, you follow your lead only to find out much later that he is actually the son of your worst enemy, but by that time you're already chained up and waiting as bait in some dungeon to lure your brother into a trap. Did I leave anything out? " 

" Not that I can think of." Claire frowned, suddenly feeling very responsible, " I can't help but thinking none of this ever would have happened if I hadn't gotten separated from Chris and Alan."

" Maybe not, but then you might never have found me! Who knows how that would've turned out? And, hey, you probably still wouldn't know that your friend was the relative of the enemy, would you? " Steve offered sympathetically, " Speaking of which, this Alan guy, does it seem to you that he's following in Daddy's footprints, or is he more…I don't know, trustworthy? "

Claire's frown deepened when they entered a room done all in red. " I don't know if I'd call Alan trustworthy, but I don't think this is going to be a like father like son deal. He was actually very sad about having to lure Chris into a trap. He even tried to free me, for all the good that did him. His dad kicked his butt. Though I don't know him very well, judging from what I've seen I honestly don't think he'd intentionally harm us of his own free will." She paused a moment before adding, " Wow. Would you look at this room."

The entire room was done exclusively in red. Red carpet, red walls, red curtains, red bed, red everything. It made the hair on the back of Claire's neck stand on end.

" I don't like this room." Steve worded what Claire was thinking, " It's too…discomforting."

" I agree." Claire added, " Like fresh blood."

Without warning, there was a monstrous bellow from the door behind them and heavy footsteps thudded closer and closer. Within second there was the earsplitting scream of cracking wood and ruptured plaster.

" What's…?!" Steve started. He turned to look at the titanic beast-man towering a good eight or nine feet tall directly in the threshold of the now splintered doorway.

" It's a tyrant!" Claire shrieked. She was reasonably upset--here was a creature of awesome power and the all they had to defend themselves was Steve's ax. She mentally cursed Wesker yet again for taking her side-pack and gun. Who knew where they were now? He certainly hadn't been considerate enough to leave them in the torture chamber where she could see them. 

" Quick, through the door!" Claire was already opening the only other door in the room. It led straight down a stony staircase well lit by electric bulbs hanging from the ceiling from hooks and wire. 

She flew down the stairs just as gracefully as if she had been born to do it, Steve hot on her trail. Her heart was slamming against her chest, abject fear driving her into the unknown. 

If they didn't find a way to distract or confuse the monster, they were toast!

The staircase led into a huge earthy cavern hundreds of feet wide with a roof at least a hundred feet up. All the walls and even the floor were made of tunneled-out dirt packed tightly.

But it wasn't the basic appearance of the cavern that caught Claire's attention, it was what was _inside_ the room.

There, laying on a nest of blankets and pillows on the ground not more than ten yards away, and bathed in the wane glow of the cavern, lay by far the largest, strangest beast Claire had ever seen.

A good 25-30 feet long, the large lion like beast coated in tawny fur was sleeping with it's eyes closed and forepaws extended in classic cat style. Upon hearing all the commotion, the great beast opened a glossy reddish eye.

_%$#@! Not another monster! We are so dead!_ Was pretty much the only thought running through Claire's mind just then.

Nevertheless, the roar of the tyrant stomping down the stairs after them urged her onward. _With any luck, maybe they'll fight each other and we'll get away! _

Hope sprang anew.

" Whoa…that's Kiticore! " Steve marveled as he chased Claire into the open air of the cave and right past the sleepy behemoth.

" What?! " Claire gasped. Her voice could barely be heard above the roar of the tyrant.

" I saw a file about it on a computer." Steve explained, " One of HCF's little pets."

" I don't think I'd ever put the word ' little ' in the same sentence used to describe that creature! "

" Hrrrrooooaaahh!!" Tyrant blundered down the steps, and the sleepy giant went from sleepy to feral in about two seconds flat.

Whipping it's furry raptor head around in a frenzy, the beast opened it's jaws in a proud display of it's two gleaming saber-fangs. In no time it was up on all fours, making a strange noise that sounded like a cross between a hissing snake and a growling wolf.

Tyrant lunged for it.

In one swift motion, the Kiticore beast swatted the other mutant with a paw the size of a tire--razor-sharp claws extended. Tyrant was on the ground so fast it was dizzying.

Claire shot Steve a desperate glance, " We need to find someplace to hide! "

" Really? " Steve hissed, " You know, that thought hadn't occurred to me!" 

He was nervous. Claire could tell not only by his words but also his body language. She really couldn't blame him. This clash of the titans would probably not last for long, and then they'd have the victor to deal with.

Mind racing, she scanned the cavern for passageways or hiding places. There were no obvious doors or passages, but what she did see was a huge water bowl large enough to be a swimming pool fed by a hose at one end of the cave. There were dozens of large wooden barrels stacked along the furthest side--easily enough to hide behind.

Steve reached the conclusion at the same time Claire did, and as one they ran for cover as the cavern walls echoed with the roars and hisses of two beasts clashing.

The battle was over even before they reached the barrels; Tyrant lay dead and dismembered at the entrance to the cave.

Once they were behind the safety of the barrels, the two panicked friends waited to see what creature would do next.

They didn't have long to wait.

Having completed it's kill, the Kiticore stretched out forelegs-first in a very catlike gesture. Huge, black, leathery wings unfolded and refolded.

Now fully awake, the creature pricked it's feline ears up and looked around for the humans who had escaped it.

Claire's heart froze when it looked towards the barrels. But much to her surprise--and relief--the huge beast merely sat on it's haunches and coiled it's deadly stinger-tail around it's front legs, just like a big tabby-cat might do. It made no effort to move for the barrels, even though it was looking straight at them.

" Great. Where's a lion tamer when you need one? " Steve joked in a low whisper.

" Forget that. What we need is a way out. That thing just tore that tyrant up like a catnip toy. What do you think it could do to us? "

" Well, what can we do? " Steve returned, desperate for a plan, " I don't see any other ways out of here unless you think we could dig our way out."

Claire shook her head. " I guess we'll just have to wait until it goes back to sleep."

Steve gave a frown of disapproval. " Yeah? What if it doesn't? "

As if in response, the catlike beast suddenly threw open it's mouth and made a weird birdlike chirp. This was followed by more of the same; it's throat rising and falling with each effort.

" What's it doing? " Claire wondered.

" I don't know," Steve admitted, " But it definitely doesn't sound like a threatening call. "

Kiticore kept this call up for well over a minute. Then it stopped, flipped over onto it's back, and began rolling around in the dirt like a dog in a dust bath. It started to make small whimpering noises like a puppy.

_Odd, why would it do that? _Steve found himself thinking. He ran his mind over everything he could remember reading about Kiticore: big, powerful, smart as a dog…._wait a minute_. 

The image of the Kiticore beast sitting next to it's creators in a photo crossed his mind. They'd had no restraints on that thing, yet it hadn't been attacking. It had just been sitting there like an obedient dog at it's master's side.

Steve's eyes shifted over to the corner of the cave where a huge water dish was handy, and then his gaze fell on the huge pile of bedding the creature had been using as a nest. It was all set up like Kiticore were nothing more than a really big dog. If they had considered it dangerous, the logical thing to do would be to keep it in a cage. You certainly wouldn't want something that big and deadly prowling around loose down in the cavern where you had to go to feed and water it, would you?

" Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don't think that thing wants to harm us." Steve said slowly.

Claire shot him an are-you-crazy look. He could see the doubt in her eyes.

And he had to admit that it was an awfully big chance to take with something as dangerous as Kiticore, but it was worth a shot.

" I think maybe it's friendly." Steve suggested, " I saw a photo of it sitting next to it's masters earlier. And check out the way the room is set up. I don't think it's owners were afraid of it or else they would have caged it. And…look at it." He gestured to the big animal rolling around in the dust, " That's not hunting behavior. I've seen dogs and even cats doing the same thing before. The thing I read said Kiticore is as smart as a dog. Maybe it just wants to let us know it's not going to hurt us."

Claire froze a minute, processing.

" Maybe." She said at last. " But how can we be sure? "

Without answering, Steve crept out slowly from behind the barrels.

" Steve! What are you doing?! " Claire hissed in a low half-whisper, " I wouldn't be willing to bet my life on it! "

But Steve was not listening. He stepped out into full view of the creature, but stayed at a safe enough distance to dart back for cover if need be.

" Hi there, Kiticore." Steve said just as casually as if he were talking to a pet dog.

Kiticore rolled back onto it's feet into a low crouch and looked at him curiously.

Really hoping that he was right about the creature, and more scared than he wanted to let on, Steve held out his hands palms up. He'd long since dropped the ax during the tyrant attack, which was probably a good thing now. He didn't want the creature to perceive him as a threat.

" You're not going to hurt me, are you? " The question, of course, was rhetorical.

Kiticore cocked it's head to one side, as if trying to figure him out.

" That's right." Steve went on, " You're just like a big dog, aren't you? "

The animal stood up and started towards him at casual pace.

Steve backed up a bit, and it stopped, as if sensing his fear.

It seemed to be saying: _' Okay, you want to take this slow, that's fine by me!'_

He watched as the animal looked at him with playful eyes. It opened it's mouth slightly and a gentle chuffing sound came out. 

As if it were inviting him to pet it.

Steve arched both eyebrows and shot a questioning glance to the barrels where Claire was hiding. She was peering between the edges where two barrels met, a flash of blue eyes and reddish-brown hair. She seemed less worried than she had before, and now she, too, was starting to come out of hiding.

_Well, it probably doesn't want to kill me or else it would have tried by now_. Steve reasoned, turning his attention back to the huge tawny animal in front of him, _Still, it's hard to be brave in front of something that big!_

Kiticore was less than twenty feet away now, but wasn't budging from where it sat when Steve had backed up. 

Slowly, Steve started up to it. It just sat, waiting, and allowed him to come close enough to touch it.

" Steve! Be careful." Claire cautioned. She was out from behind the barrels now, and less than twenty feet behind Steve and Kiticore, watching their every move.

Gently, Steve reached out and petted the front of one of Kiticore's legs.

It gave a gentle rasping purr of happiness and shut it's eyes in contentment.

Relief washed over Steve in a big wave. " That's right," He cooed, " Nice Kiticore. Nice Kitty." To Claire, he said, " It's safe. Kitty's safe."

Claire smiled a bit. " Well I already knew _it_ was safe. I was worried about us." 

" Hah hah. Couldn't resist that, could you? "

" Are you kidding? " Claire joined Steve in stroking Kiticore's fur. It was course and doglike, but not unpleasant to the touch. 

The Kiticore beast just rumbled on with it's throaty purr, not even opening it's eyes except for brief instances. 

Claire had to admit that it was more than a little nerve-racking to be petting something that big with saber fangs that had just ripped apart tyrant. Heck, even sitting on it's haunches the creature's head was a couple of feet above Claire's and she was standing up.

" So nice to know that not all of these mutants are bloodthirsty killers." She breathed.

She was startled when the creature suddenly bent down and dipped it's head next to their hands.

Steve started petting it's enormous head and even scratching behind it's ears and around it's short, stubby horns. These horns--there were three of them--were arranged in a 'v' shape on the crown of the creature's head and each was no more than six inches long. They were more a protrusion of bone, really. Steve couldn't figure what they'd be used for or why Kiticore had been engineered to even have them.

" Claire. This is so cool! I wonder if Kitty knows commands."

" Kitty? " Claire echoed.

Steve shrugged. " Short for Kiticore. That's what I've decided to call her."

" Whoa, wait a minute," Claire said, incredulous, " How do you know it's a girl? "

" I don't." Steve confessed, " It just didn't seem right to keep calling it an it."

Claire laughed a bit. " You're acting like this is your new pet."

" Lay down." Steve ordered Kitty.

Kitty dropped onto the ground, front legs sprawled out in front of her.

Steve grinned like an idiot. " Isn't this cool? "

He turned back to Kitty. " Stand up."

Once again, the HCF creature obeyed.

" Are you thinking what I'm thinking? " Claire asked, an idea starting to form, " If we could take it with us…"

" Her." Steve corrected.

Claire rolled her eyes. " Whatever. It..she..protected us from Tyrant, she may just be our ticket out of here."

" And, she has wings! " Steve added excitedly, " Do you think maybe we could ride her? We could search the entire island from the safety of the air! "

Claire frowned suddenly.

" What? " Steve prodded.

In response, she gestured to the narrow staircase they'd came down, the one which Tyrant's massive body now lye propped against the lower steps of.

" How are we going to get Kitty out? She'd never fit up those stairs."

Steve felt his hopes sink when he realized Claire was right. They'd have to find some other way. 


	13. On The Run

****

Chapter 13

" Wesker! " Chris hissed. If looks could kill, Wesker would've been dead. Nevertheless, the S.T.A.R.S. member backed up a bit, leaving Alan closer to the traitorous ex-captain.

At that moment though, Wesker was more interested in Alan anyway, so that worked out just fine.

" You! " Wesker sneered, pointing a gloved finger at Alan, " You're nothing but a traitor! "

Alan did his best to look calm and suppressed, even taking the liberty of adjusting his own personal shades and forcing a grin. He'd been thrown around enough, and something inside him was rebelling. He didn't want to appear weak. Not to his dad, not to anyone.

" Traitor. What do you know? At least I come by it honestly."

In a flash Wesker was right in front of Alan. In a flash he grabbed his son by the throat and threw him into a bank of machinery set into the wall, jarring some of the mechanical drawers open and freeing thousands of little metallic beads.

" I've had about enough lip from you Junior! " Wesker spat, " Deal's off!"

" Well, I kinda figured that, being that it's not seven-thirty yet." Alan groaned a bit as he staggered to his feet. _Right. Insult him. Why did I think that would be a good idea? And…ow. Don't suppose I could report him for child abuse? Though, technically, I'm not a child anymore…_

" What have you done to my sister?!" Chris demanded, interrupting Alan's thoughts.

His face was almost red with anger, his cheeks flushing and eyes narrowed. He seemed to go into a kind of fighting stance as Wesker approached ever so slowly.

Wesker was taking his time, savoring the moment. " Ah, Chris. Always right to the point. But if it's to any consolation, what I do to your sister will far pale in comparison to what I'm going to do to you."

By the time Chris realized Wesker was going to charge him with his super-speed, it was already too late. Wesker had him in a chokehold and had already ripped the gun out of his hand.

All in about three seconds.

The gun, along with the ship-crest, fell to the floor in a clatter besides Wesker's feet. Paying the fallen items no heed, he tightened his grip on Chris's throat and hoisted the other man into the air with just one hand.

Alan backed away from the scene, careful not to slip on all the little marbles that were now practically beneath his feet. Every fiber in his being wanted to help, he just didn't know how.

_If I went anywhere near him, Dad would smack me clear to Miami!_ No, brute force wouldn't do any good. There had to be some other way…Alan's eyes swept the room, searching for something, _anything_ he could use to his advantage. 

It was a supply room with little metal chutes and ducts erupting from various pieces of equipment all over the place. Half the gadgets and machines Alan didn't even recognize--they looked completely alien. There were even carts and a little water fountain. 

To the other end of the room, Chris struggled in Wesker's grasp.

There was no time to do a more thorough search. Alan's eye fell on a panel of buttons just to his right, built into the corner of the wall. As luck would have it, they were also close to the door. Although it wasn't clear exactly what they did, he hoped it would be enough to create a diversion.

" You were always so concerned about your teammates," Wesker told Chris even as Alan reached the button panel, " Well now you're about to join them. Say hello for me, will you? " 

Alan froze just over the buttons. There were at least a dozen of them; little white squares with little labels. He didn't have time to read labels.

_I hope I know what I'm doing, _He thought as his fingers flew over the panel pressing buttons like they were going out of style, _Who am I kidding? Of course I don't know what I'm doing. I just hope one of these doesn't do something really bad._

Several things happened at once then. 

The first thing that happened was a motorized cart came to life and rammed right into Wesker's legs, spilling all it's contents--including flasks filled with some type of red fluids--all over him. 

The sprinkler came on and an automatic coffee maker roared to life. It went totally berserk and started spouting scalding hot coffee all over the floor. 

The lights flickered off, then on, then off again.

" Sorry! " Alan yelled above the chaos as he pressed even more buttons to try and get the lights back on.

" What the…? " Wesker never got the chance to finish as something wet and sticky hit him in the face.

Only when the lights came back on did he realize it was a jelly-like blob substance of the likes which he'd never seen. He had no idea how it had got there or where it had came from. The sticky red goo engulfed his entire face, cutting off his air while the little motor cart continued to ram his legs again and again, as if trying to drive _through _them.

This was too much for Wesker. He threw Chris down and struggled to pry the extra sticky jelly off his face.

Quick to take action, Alan leapt over the loose marbles on the floor and helped a coughing Chris up. The water from the sprinklers drenched them even more than they already were like a vicious rain. Some how, above all the racket of the room, they still managed to hear a strange squishing sound.

They looked over. Just past Wesker, more of the red goo was oozing out from under a broken wooden crate.

Deciding they didn't want to stick around, they made a beeline for the door--Chris following Alan's lead jumping over the beads.

Just when they'd made it out to the hallway, Alan saw two people he didn't recognize coming after them.

But Chris recognized one of them to be Alexia.

" No way! I thought I killed her! " He rasped, his voice still a bit strained from want of air.

" She's in pretty good shape to be a corpse! " Alan observed.

Chris got an idea. Before she had time to act, he grabbed Alexia by the arm and yanked her rather roughly into the soggy room where Wesker was fighting his battle with the jelly.

An unprepared Alexia slipped on the loose metal beads greased further by all the falling water and skidded right into Wesker just as he managed to pry the gel from his face.

Wesker landed on his back with her on top of him, face to face, almost in a kiss.

Alexia's enraged partner took aim of Chris and fired.

Luckily, Chris had been moving just then, and his shot went wide.

Alan tore off down the hall, Chris hot on his heels.

" We need to get to Claire before my dad does! " He called over his shoulder, " I know where she's at! "

" That's great and all," Chris muttered, " But do you really expect us to just outrun someone who can move as fast as Wesker? Even if we were in training for the Olympics he could catch us."

" Yeah? Well what's _your_ plan? "

" Good point. I just hope Alexia can keep him busy for awhile."

There was another gunshot, and a bullet whizzed so close to Chris's ear he could feel the wind from it ruffle his hair and touch his cheek like a cold, ghostly finger. His ears reverberated with the sound of a rifle being fired in such close proximity.

It wasn't like the little ' pop 's heard on TV. A gun being fired off in real life was very, _very_ loud.

Alan threw open door after door in a wild rush, paying very little heed to anything except the mission: they _had _to get to Claire before Wesker did. There was no two ways about it.

However, their soggy clothes were slowing them down and making running a real chore.

_Water! Why does there have to be so much water! _ Alan thought angrily. He felt as though he'd gained several pounds and was not liking the way the water felt in his boots or the way it made his hair stick to his face in wet blonde clumps. _When all this is over, I'm going to take a nice hot shower._

They were now several doors away from where they'd been, but they still had a ways to go.

" We need to find an elevator or stairs." Alan stated, as if sensing an impending question from Chris, " Claire is on B-1, but I only know how to get there from the first floor."

" You're sure? " Chris asked, dubious.

" Positive." Alan snapped, a bit grumpily. Things were not going well for him today, and he really didn't like being second-guessed.

Chris just followed--what else could he do--and snatched his magnum out of his waterlogged side pack between strides. 

There were only two bullets left after the whole Tyrant incidence, and he was really hoping he wouldn't have to use them. He hadn't exactly gotten the time to retrieve his Beretta from under Wesker's feet.

Or the ship-crest.

_*&%$, I hope that doesn't come back to haunt me!_ Chris thought sourly once the memory resurfaced, _Of course, it probably will. What is with me lately? I'm always losing things I need!_

An elevator loomed in front of them.

A female zombie dressed in a skimpy red dress stood guard.

" Uuuuhhhhnn? " It almost seemed to ask, it's lifeless eyes focused on Alan.

Alan didn't even take the time to pull his gun, he just shoved the walking corpse out of his way. 

" Sorry baby. You're not my type." He remarked as he reached the elevator and punched the button.

Chris actually laughed a bit. " You talk to _zombies_? "

" Why not? " Alan said, a pale smile twitching at the edge of his mouth, " It doesn't hurt. And it's not like they're going to argue or call you names or anything."

The doors slid open and they stepped inside onto bare tile.

Alan hit the button to the first floor, and the doors closed as the machine started in motion.

Realizing his shades were still on, Alan took them off and folded them back into his pocket.

" That's better." Chris remarked, noting the action with suppressed resentment. Shades reminded him of Wesker. Wesker reminded him of a world of things he was trying to forget.

" Yeah, well…easier to see. I don't have cat-eyes like my dad."

" There's something you can be thankful for." Chris huffed, rubbing a hand to his forehead in an effort to wipe away some of the excess water dripping down from his hair. " How long has your dad been that way? With the virus and all? "

Alan frowned, upset. " I'm not really sure. I found out about it just today. The hard way, I might add. But Dad's been acting kind of funny ever since the Spencer incident. Although he never said anything to me, I'm certain something must have happened there. Something big."

_Oh, you don't know the half of it. _Chris thought.

There was a ding, and the elevator doors swished apart to reveal a dimly-lit hallway.

" Bingo. Follow me! " Alan started down the hallway until he reached the end, the followed a flight of stairs down to a door. This he flung open excitedly, and rushed in…only to find Claire missing.

Fragments of broken chains hanging from the wall where she'd been were all to be found.

Chris stopped alongside Alan in the middle of the room; his anxious eyes shifting around from wall to wall.

" Claire?! " He called.

There was no answer, only the faint dripping sound of water falling from a leak somewhere in the room. He turned to Alan.

" Where is she?! " His tone wasn't too gentle.

Alan gestured to the closest wall with his hand, " Well she was right there, handcuffed to the wall by her wrists and ankles. But, being how she isn't there now, and being how the chains have been cut and all, I'm going to go out on a limb and say she was rescued."

Chris crossed his arms, thoughtful. " Maybe. Or maybe Wesker just moved her."

Alan shook his head dismissively. " Not his style. Besides, why would he leave fragments of chains on the wall? I'm sure he must've had the key to those cuffs. It wouldn't make sense."

" But who would rescue her? I mean, other than us, obviously."

Alan shook his head, thoroughly puzzled. " I don't know. But we'd better get out of here very quickly. I know my dad well enough to know that this will be one of the first places he will look for us."

" Good idea." Chris agreed.

Together, they headed back up the stairs and back to the elevator. Only, instead of going into it this time, they tried a door to the left.

" I guess we could keep an ear out for her." Chris said, weary with worry.

Alexia was on the prowl, and that made things even _more _dangerous. 

_I thought I killed her. Gees, doesn't anybody ever stay dead anymore? _Chris was remembering Wesker, whom he'd also previously thought dead. It seemed to him that the good people were always dying but the bad people could somehow cheat their way out of death. Still, he was mystified. _How do you survive being blown apart by a linear launcher?! She should be dead, I saw her pieces go flying through the air! Not to mention the fact that the whole Antarctic facility went up in smoke. Seems to me there shouldn't be enough of her left to fill a pothole._

The room they were in now smelled heavily of death. The body of a woman lay sprawled out across the floor; facedown, thankfully. Her blood formed a sticky pool on the linoleum.

Alan and Chris made a face of disgust as they stepped around her, both glad they couldn't see what must have been one hell of a wound to be causing her to bleed so badly.

They left that room for another drab and nondescript office-type room.

" So," Chris stated, "Your last name is Wesker, then? "

Alan stopped and looked at Chris like he'd just asked which direction was up.

Chris put a hand to his face, desperately wishing he'd found a better way to word that before just blurting it out. _He must think I'm an idiot._

" Of course." Alan replied, as if any dummy should know, " What else would it be? Alan Stephen Wesker. That's me."

" No wonder you didn't want to talk about yourself much."

" That's right. That's why I didn't tell you from the start. Would you really have listened to the son of your worst enemy? I couldn't risk it. Not in this dire of an emergency. I had to be sure you would come."

" Why me? " Chris leaned a bit against someone's office desk, not caring when he knocked several items to the floor in the process.

" I heard about how well you did in the incident at the Spencer mansion as well as the Antarctic. Quite impressive."

" How do you know all that? " Chris prodded.

" My father was there in both those cases, remember? He told me what went on. From his own perspective, of course. He tried to make it sound like you and the others were nothing but a bunch of meddling idiots who just happened to get lucky, but I knew better. What you did took brains. And guts." Alan gave a wry smile.

Chris looked happy for a moment, the ghost of a smile crossing his own features. But it faded quickly. He cast his eyes downward.

" Maybe. But I don't feel that important. Your father slaughtered half my teammates before I even knew what was happening. And Enrico was even shot right beneath my nose."

" That wasn't your fault," Alan muttered, a most sour expression on his face, " There was no way you could've known."

Chris met Alan's saddened gaze. " You know the truth then? About what happened to Enrico? "

Alan nodded unhappily. " Yes. My dad told me all about it in very vivid detail. He also described how everyone on the Bravo team had died, and even what he tried to do to you, Barry, Jill, and Rebecca. I thought I was going to have nightmares."

" So you really were a friend of Enrico's? "

" Yes. I didn't see him much except the few times he came over to talk to Dad. He talked to me, too. Teased me about school and girls and that kind of stuff. Once, when we were waiting for Dad to get back, he told me about S.T.A.R.S. and it's members. He seemed to hold you and Jill in very high regard. Never had anything bad to say about you. I asked him what he thought my chances were of being able to join S.T.A.R.S. when I was old enough, and he just started laughing like I'd told the world's funniest joke because my father was captain of the team. He told me that as long as I put my heart into it and really tried, training would be a breeze for me. Then, somehow, ' Baywatch ' got brought up…" Alan gazed off into space, remembering better times.

" Enrico never mentioned you." Chris brought up, snapping Alan back to the present.

" Well, no, I don't suppose he would have. Like I said, we only met a couple of times, and from what he said he was awfully busy. Though he did find the time to share some stories with my sister and I."

Chris raised both eyebrows, startled. " You have a sister? "

Alan nodded. " Yeah. A little sister. She's only ten." At Chris's surprised look, he added, " What? I happen to know that at least _some _of the other S.T.A.R.S. had kids. Barry did. And I'm pretty sure Enrico did too, even though I never actually met any of them. At least, from the way he talked that's the impression I got."

" So tell me," Chris crossed his arms very seriously, " How did you know where to get a hold of me? Really."

" Well, I have a friend who is quite the computer hacker," Alan admitted, " I mean, on the professional levels."

Chris nodded. " I see. This…friend of yours, is it the same one who loaned you the jet? " 

Alan gave a nervous laugh. " Not really. The jet was actually my father's, and he was pretty miffed that I didn't ask permission before I borrowed. Aw crud, I'm going to be in even _bigger_ trouble when he finds those gashes in the side! "

" That's a bit more believable than your other story about mysterious people keeping to the shadows. Though I will give you points for effort."

" Actually," Alan protested, " I _did_ see some people like that and they _were_ talking about you. Well, not you specifically, maybe, but I heard your name mentioned along with Valentine, Chambers, and Burton. Other S.T.A.R.S. members. But you're right: they didn't give me your number. That was courtesy of my friend Kristy. You understand why I had to leave some of the truth out when we first met? It would've led to questions that would have been difficult for me to answer."

Chris smiled a bit. " I guess you're right. It was a smart thing to keep the truth from us right then. After all I've been through with Wesker…"

" Believe me, I know." Alan cut in, " And I don't blame you. I was shocked and horrified at what he did to everyone at Spencer. I guess on some level I'm afraid he'd betray me, too. Even though I'm his own son…I feel like I'm walking on eggshells around him."

Chris suddenly stood up and straightened. " Well, now that Alexia's in the picture, we'd better hurry and find Claire and get out of here. It also wouldn't hurt to blow this place to bits."

" Alexia? Who's that? "

Chris frowned. " She's the woman who should be dead. It's a long story, but the main gist of it is that she's an evil genius who also happens to be insane."

" Insane? You mean like, diabolical insane? "

Chris shook his head. " I mean deluded and demented. She made this crazy virus from ant genes or whatever and mutated herself into a big, butt-ugly fire throwing bug monster. Why anyone would want to do that, especially someone with her supposed intellect, I don't know. Such a shame, really. Even I have to admit that she was very beautiful. Of course, after she mutated a couple of times, her looks went downhill. She was one of those bent on the end of the world types, or something like that. I really don't know what she planned to do as a giant bug."

" So how is it that's she's back in her own human form now? " Alan asked, " I mean, if she was mutated and all."

Chris gave an exasperated sigh. " I don't know. I'm still trying to figure out how she survived being shot with a linear launcher and then blown apart in the explosion that destroyed her facility. She should be in itty bitty pieces all over the Antarctic. By all means, it makes no sense. But now that she is back, she's worth worrying about. In addition to being a heartless psycho she's very smart and very strong. Her only flaw--well, other than the obvious--is that she's slower than molasses when it comes to the chase. Her and your dad mixed it up once. She caught his hand on fire and slapped him around a bit before he decided to run off. It was actually kind of funny. At least, I thought it was funny until she started in on me. Bottom line is, we don't want to fight her if we can avoid it. She's too powerful for the weapons we have, and I don't know where to find another linear launcher if she decides to go all buggy again. Unless her and Wesker end up killing each other, we're going to have our hands full."

Alan nodded, following. " So what should we do? " 

Chris scratched his chin thoughtfully. " Well, Wesker and Alexia probably cleared out of that room by now. Alan, do you think you can go back for the ship-crest? I mean, Alexia doesn't have it in for you, and Wesker's your father. You'd be a lot safer than me. I think we're going to need that crest to get to the self-destruct mechanism. I'll look for Claire and meet you on this side of B-1 in fifteen. We'll go from there. Think you can do that? "

Alan saluted Chris in true S.T.A.R.S. fashion. " Yes sir! "

Chris grinned. " You would have made a good S.T.A.R.S. member. Let's do it! "

************************************************************************


	14. Skirmishes

****

Chapter 14

Back in the Automatic Supply Room, a very mad, very wet Alexia got off of Wesker and gave him and angry kick that sent him halfway through the wall. She flicked blood from her wrist in an attempt for fire. It fell to the floor and was washed away in the torrent caused from the sprinklers without ever igniting.

Wesker was quick to his feet. " A bit wet for fire, don't you think? " He jeered, an evil smirk on his face.

Alexia laughed. " Back for another beating? You didn't fare so well against me last time, remember? "

" Yeah? Well at least I wasn't whipped by Chris! " He grabbed a little marble figurine and chucked it at Alexia's face like a pitcher throwing a fastball.

Alexia was not quick enough to dodge, and the little figurine hit her left cheek like a bullet. It busted upon impact, doing little more than jolting Alexia's head back a bit.

If it hurt much at all, she certainly didn't show it. 

Laughing, she grabbed one of the marble fragments in one hand and held it palm up for Wesker to see. She tightened her fist around it. When she next opened her palm, Wesker could see nothing but dust and the powderized remains of what had once been solid marble.

" I'll bet you really think you're something special," Wesker grumbled, " Here's one for you, can you do…this? "

Wesker zipped forward at lightning speed and drove his fist into Alexia's face, using all the momentum from his charge. He had used this move in the past and found it quite effective. On normal people, it was more than sufficient force to send their head into orbit.

But on Alexia, all it did was knock her down. 

She fell to the floor, her face reddened, and her nose a broken, bloody mess. The sprinklers quickly put out the flames that sprouted from her blood.

Wesker grinned. " Guess not."

For once, Alexia wasn't laughing. She knew that being in such a soggy environment put her at a bit of a disadvantage in this, at least where fire was concerned. She had Wesker's strength, certainly, but she did not have his speed. And, unlike before, he no longer seemed very intimidated by her. Not that he'd been trembling in his boots before, but he definitely seemed cockier now. 

_Must've been that Redfield, _Alexia thought angrily, _If Wesker thinks I can be beaten by such a weak and inept normal person, no wonder he doesn't have a healthy respect for my power. I haven't given him much of a reason to fear me._

Alexia glanced over and noticed her son standing in the doorway, ready to help her if need be. She was going to have to see to it that there wasn't a need. 

She could see Wesker's muscles tense even before he made the move, and this time she was prepared when he suddenly launched himself up into the air and aimed a diving punch at her chest.

Alexia rolled over to one side and Wesker's fist struck the floor with such force that it sent pieces of tile and debris exploding into the air as if his hand itself were a jackhammer.

Alexia took this opportunity to spring up and kick him in the side.

Wesker made an audible groan of pain as the kick connected and literally sent him flying through the far wall nearest to the door , taking a generous-sized chunk of wall with him. It sounded like a wrecking ball had hit, and Ash had to back off to be sure none of the debris would hit him.

As for Wesker, he was laying in the cracked plaster of the second wall he'd almost went through and already getting up.

This was not without it's difficulties, however. A dull pain roared through his side in fiery waves, and he was sure some ribs had been cracked. It wasn't terribly painful, and it would heal within minutes, Wesker knew, but it had severed as a wake up call.

He didn't want to fight Alexia right now. Not really. Right now, all he wanted to do was catch that Redfield before he pulled his famous vanishing act. As for Alexia, well, he hated to go all Brad Vickers on her, as the new saying went, but he had other things to be doing.

" Some other time." He mumbled as he stood up and zipped off, flying through the doors at an unnatural speed.

A soggy Alexia stepped out of the supply room through the hole she'd made with Wesker's body. She gave an indignant snort in the direction he'd gone. " Hmmph! He's nothing but a coward."

She turned to Ash, as if waiting for an agreement.

" Don't worry, we wont let him stand in our way." Ash soothed.

He gently pried two wet locks of Alexia's beautiful blonde hair away from her face with just two fingers.

Alexia smiled warmly. She knew it. Just like Alfred, she could always count on Ash to do whatever she said. It was good that he knew his place. It was good that he had accepted it. _He is a worthy heir to the Ashford legacy. _Alexia thought proudly. 

In fact, if she had any concerns at all, it would be where Alexis was concerned. She didn't know her daughter that well, but some of Alexis's earlier words and actions had hinted at not only a conscience, but an inclination towards good as well.

Alexia found herself frowning a bit. That would not do. There was no place for softies in the Ashford family.

Ash cocked his head to one side, curious about his mother's thoughts. " Something wrong, Mother? "

Alexia shook her head. Nothing was wrong just yet. She held out her hand and placed a wooden ship crest she'd found on the floor into Ash's hand.

Ash stared at it as if it were the piece to a puzzle he hadn't even been working on. " What's this? "

" The Redfield had it. He must have thought it was important to be carrying it around like that. It probably opens the door to a room he wants to get into somewhere." Alexia glanced to the clock hanging on the hall wall. The hour wasn't up quite yet, but now it didn't matter. " Ash, I want you to go back into the meeting room and find out what your father and sister have discovered once they return. Take the crest with you, we may need it, and I want to keep it out of Redfield's hands anyway."

Ash nodded like a puppet. 

Alexia smiled at him again, this time meeting his gaze with the coolness of her icy blue eyes.

" What about you? Where will you be? " Ash asked. He wanted to know her plan, to help her attain her goal.

" Oh, I'll meet up with all of you in the room. I just have something I wish to investigate first. You will wait for me there." Alexia kissed him lightly on the cheek in true mother's fashion. " Understood? "

" As you wish."

Having settled that, Alexia turned and went off in the direction Wesker had ran.

**************************************

Alan ran through the rooms and back to the elevator, retracing his steps as quickly as he could back to the Automatic Supply Room. Hopefully things have settled down some there. _I wouldn't want to walk in on anything that could be hazardous to my health._

He wasn't particularly thrilled with the way things were going today. His back was still a bit sore from all the times he'd been tossed or hit into a wall or other solid object, and his clothes were still wet and miserable against his skin. It wasn't in the least a pleasant experience, and he was only thankful more damage hadn't been done. Of course, his father would never hurt him too severely. 

He hoped.

He had just opened the door to the hallway leading to the Automatic Supply Room when he saw the fleeting image of blue and blonde as a door shut to the opposite end of the hall.

But what really grabbed his attention was the gaping hole that had been wrecked into the wall of the Automatic Supply Room.

_Whoa, what happened **there**?! _He ran over to inspect and found an entire section of wall had just been ripped out. What remained of it was scattered in debris out into the hallway, where the huge cracking of the plaster and paneling on the opposing wall indicated it had been hit forcefully with something.

Indeed, it appeared as if something had been thrown right through the wall.

All as silent save the sprinkling of the water in the next room and the occasional buzz of equipment winding down or shorting out in the water.

Alan could see just by looking in that the ship crest was gone. He dashed in and retrieved Chris's Beretta, slung it into his side pack, then went back out and started through the door the blonde had gone through. 

Whoever it was, they might have the crest, and Alan needed that crest. 

The bodies of dead zombies littered the floor of the next room. Some had been shot in the head, others were missing their heads entirely. Some were still functioning, but were crippled too badly to even move, as if something extremely powerful had simply knocked them aside. All this suggested that more than one person had been through this room, and Alan was willing to bet one of them had been his father.

There were two doors. One was all the way open, and the other only slightly ajar.

Going on a hunch, Alan picked the slightly ajar door and darted inside a rather spacious room filled with glass display cases and bookshelves housing all kinds of creepy stuff from bones to old tribal masks. He couldn't help but to think it looked very out of place in an HCF center.

He paused just before he got to the second door leading out of the room.

There was a very large, very tall shelf containing all sorts of books and oddities just before this door, and he could swear he heard someone breathing from behind it.

_Ideal cover for someone who knows they're being followed to ambush their unsuspecting pursuer. Too bad I'm not unsuspecting._

Whoever it was, they were in for a surprise. 

Alan backed up a bit and charged. He hit the bookshelf in a flying leap and sent it crashing down.

A blonde headed teenaged boy not much younger than Alan and dressed in a blue and white soldier type outfit launched himself out of harm's way and right into plain sight.

There was plenty of loud crashing and smashing as the top of the shelf hit the wall and the entire thing fell apart making a mess of which the likes had seldom been seen.

The teenager--Alan was pretty sure it was the same one who had been with Alexia--had his rifle pointed at Alan's chest even before he stood up.

During all the commotion, Alan had somehow managed to draw his Beretta, and now he had it pointed at the stranger. " Who are you? "

The other blonde held his head high, and when he spoke, it was with a thick, snobby English accent. " I am Ash Ashford. " He said '_Ashford'_ with extreme pride, the way a video game addict might say '_Playstation Two' _, or an older person might say '_Polygrip'_. " Who are _you_? "

_Well, since he's on a first and last name basis…_

" Alan Wesker." He was already deciding he didn't like this guy. Something about him just seemed so…_wrong_. And it wasn't just the fact that he had been shooting at him earlier. Okay, so maybe that was a major part of it, but still…

He caught sight of the tip of the ship crest protruding from Ash's pocket.

" Why were you following me? " Ash sneered, his eyes trained on Alan's weapon,.

" Following you? You have something I need. That ship crest from the Automatic Supply Room. So if you could just hand it over, I would be more than happy to just be on my way." Alan was trying to be civil. He really was. But Ash's next comment really lit the fuse.

" Why would I want to give that to you, exactly? I found it. And you know how the saying goes: finder's keepers."

" My friend and I need that to get into a room." Alan said between gritted teeth, " Please? " 

Ash's whole demeanor was really starting to bug him. _This guy thinks he's such hot stuff!_

Ash grinned like a young god. In one swift motion, he brought his rifle up into an arch and knocked the Beretta clean out of Alan's hand.

Losing no time, Alan dived for Ash's feet and knocked the Ashford to the floor. He was grabbing for the rifle even before they landed.

Ash swung the weapon in and attempt to hit Alan in the face, but the eighteen year old grabbed the gun mid-swing by the barrel and jabbed the butt of it back into his chin.

Ash gave a painful yelp and brought his knee up into Alan's gut.

" You might as well give up because you're not getting it! " He snarled as Alan grabbed for his pocket.

He reached for the trigger of his rifle only to have it jerked out of his hands.

Enraged, Ash summoned all of his strength into a vicious upward buck and knocked the rifle skittering across the floor.

" Gees, you're making an awfully big fuss over something that's not even yours." Alan said as he dodged a punch Ash threw for his face.

" I don't see _your_ name on it! " Ash snapped. He dived to the side in an attempt to regain his rifle.

_Sorry, not gonna happen. _Alan thought as he grabbed the back of Ash's neck with both hands and crashed his head through a glass display case. He got a few cuts in the process as broken glass rained to the floor, but Ash was much worse for wear.

Alan kicked him in the groin and threw him to the floor amidst the broken shards.

He snatched the ship crest and regained his Beretta while a dazed Ash lay trying to collect his senses. Alan pointed his gun at Ash, then paused.

The young Ashford was banged up pretty badly and not likely to put up much more of a fight. He could kill him right now with a well aimed shot to the temple or chest. 

Ash wiped the blood from his face with a sleeve and looked up at Alan as if he were looking Death itself straight in the face.

It all looked so pitiful.

_I can't. I can't kill him. _Alan thought. 

He wasn't a murderer. He wasn't his father.

" Don't. Move." Alan kept his gun pointed at the fallen Ash as he went around and collected the Ashford's rifle. He checked the ammo and was delighted to find it fully stocked and ready to go. Now that he had the crest and a new weapon to boot, Alan was ready to meet up with Chris in B-1.

He backed up to the door he'd come through, keeping his gun aimed at Ash until he was out into the hall and running towards his next destination.

*************************************************

Ash waited until the last of Alan's footfalls echoed faintly down the hall before he painfully staggered to his feet. He felt as though he'd just tried to win a head-butting contest with a ram, and he was bleeding from various cuts all over his head and face. His hair was riddled with shards of glass, and now he no longer had the crest or a weapon.

_I failed. I failed miserably. _He thought, both angry and saddened at the same time, _How was it that he got the drop on me like that? I guess I should consider myself lucky though. He could have killed me. He didn't. I certainly would not have showed him such mercy._

For a brief moment, he stood there, pondering all that had happened and deciding all the more that he needed revenge on Alan. 

He was just about to go through the next door when it suddenly burst open and Alexia rushed in.

She took one look at Ash in his sorry state and made a face. " What happened to _you_?! "

Ash wiped his sleeve to his face once more, and once more he drew it away bloody. The wounds weren't critical, he could tell, but they sure felt that way.

" Alan Wesker. He came in here and just attacked me without any warning at all. He rammed my head through a glass case and ran off with both my rifle and the crest."

Alexia frowned, but her expression was not really a sympathetic one. Though she wasn't happy her son had been hurt, she couldn't really _feel_ for him.

" _Wesker_." Alexia said it as if it were a swearword, " He must be Albert Wesker's son. What a tiresome family."

" I want revenge." Ash muttered, voice dripping with hate.

Alexia regarded her son proudly, as if he'd just said the right words, just what she wanted to hear.

" And you shall have it. Obviously that crest was important to Chris..." Alexia suddenly clapped her hands together and smiled gleefully, " Oh, this is too perfect! " She laughed, adding two and two together based on what she'd seen near the Automatic Supply Room, " Wesker's son is palling around with one of his worst enemies! How ironic! How fitting! Come along now, Ash. We'll go to the meeting room and see what Alfred and Alexis have learned."

Alexia turned and headed back out, Ash following closely behind, afraid to leave her protection even for a second.

" Um, not that I'm rushing, but when do we get to the revenge part? " Ash wanted to gouge Alan's eyes out with a very large shard of glass.

Alexia didn't even look back. " Patience, my son, patience."

************************************************************************


	15. Screwed!

Chapter 15

Steve sighed and leaned back against Kitty. 

To his side, Claire cloned the motion.

They'd stayed down here for what had seemed like hours, both agreeing that they probably should be getting a move on, but neither wanting to leave Kitty. And it wasn't only because they had no major weapons with which to defend themselves, though that was definitely in the ballpark.

It seemed like murder to leave a friendly creature down in the basement when they knew the facility was going to have to be destroyed. And if they could somehow manage to get her out of there, Kitty would be major protection against monsters and certainly Albert Wesker.

Wesker could do many things, but he could not fly.

Now Kitty was lying down again with her two human friends slumped into a sitting position against her massive side. Eyes half closed, and with a low throaty purr, she was feeling quite content.

Claire wished she could borrow some of that contentment. 

For the millionth time, she looked around the room, puzzling.

" It doesn't make any sense." She said at last, her tone tired and weary, " I mean, they must've had to move Kitty at least _some_ of the time."

From beside her, Steve sighed his agreement. " You're right. Otherwise, how would they know she was a good flier? Plus the picture I'd seen…it didn't look like it was taken in this room. It looked like it was taken outside."

At the sound of the word 'outside', Kitty opened her eyes and perked her ears up. Without missing a beat, she stood up and trotted over to the shallow depression in the cave wall.

Steve and Claire watched, mystified.

" Was it something I said? " Steve wondered, only half joking.

" Probably." Claire agreed. She stood up and watched the Kiticore.

Kitty looked back and forth anxiously between them and the wall.

" What is it? What is it girl? " Steve asked in way too serious a tone.

" Little Timmy fell down into the well! " Claire laughed. _My god, he's treating it like a dog! _She thought.

Steve shot her a poisonous look, shutting her up instantly. _Okay, touchyyyy._

He turned his attention back to Kitty. The Kiticore gave a high-pitched yelp, almost like a puppy, and began pawing at the side of the cave wall.

" Is that it? Is that the way outside? " Steve was quick to run over and examine the depressed area in the wall.

Kitty sat back on her haunches and twitched her tail with excitement.

Unable to resist, Claire joined them.

Steve was feeling along the dirt when his fingers brushed over a button almost the same color.

" Claire! Claire there's a door here! " He announced, voice thick with barely contained excitement.

" Where? " Claire was feeling around now, too. Pressing her fingers along into the dirt, she was able to feel a very real creasing , like the edge to a door. 

Steve slapped the button several times. There was a faint mechanical moan, like the sound of a door trying to open but too feeble to quite make it, then nothing at all.

" What's the matter? " Claire asked.

" It's stuck. Most likely there was a cave in or something." He sounded as if his last hope had been dashed.

" Cave in? " Claire said thoughtfully. If the door was made of nothing more than tightly-packed earth, and the cave in itself would be most dirt and rock…her gaze fell on Kitty's gigantic paws. The claws were retracted right now, but she had no doubt they'd make effective digging equipment, especially when combined with the sheer raw power a creature like Kitty must posses. _Who knows, there may not even be much to move._

" I have a plan," Claire declared suddenly, " And the plan is: dig." She directed that last part almost exclusively at Kitty.

Steve cocked an eyebrow as if she had just suggested they try and jump to the moon. " Come on, Claire, you've gotta be kidding…" He stopped mid-sentence when Kitty started clawing the door, pulling away chunk after chunk of dirt.

Claire gave him a smug look.

Steve tried not to flush with embarrassment. " Oh," He gushed, " I suppose that works too." 

************************************

Chris's short search for Claire had proven futile, so he had opted to go ahead and go to B-1. Once he got into the main room, it was very likely he could use the supercomputer system to learn her whereabouts and probably even page her.

So here he was, standing by the door to the Main Systems Computer Center, and thinking about just how weird it was that he was trusting the son of his worst enemy.

_I knew there was something up with him from the start, _Chris thought reflectively, _His eyes were too shifty, and he kept acting like he had something to hide. He even looks like Wesker. It's a good thing he doesn't act like him. _

Chris dreaded to think what might have happened if Alan _had _lead him into that trap. And it was definitely a good thing Alan had been on his side in the Automatic Supplies Room. 

More than anything, Chris wanted to see Wesker pay for the crimes he had committed. The trusts he had betrayed. The suffering he had caused. The lives he had ruined. The lives he had taken, either directly or indirectly. 

But his last two encounters with his ex-boss had nearly cost him his life. The ex-captain had simply gotten too powerful. So now, if he wanted to beat him, Chris was going to have to start playing the game a bit differently, because there was no question as to who would come out ahead in a smackdown.

He crossed his arms as he waited, a nervous habit he'd become accustomed to in such situations. Briefly, his eyes flitted to the refrigerator, and he resisted the temptation to take a peek inside. With a refrigerator in an odd place in a building run by mad scientists, the odds were ten to one he wouldn't like what he'd find inside.

He was so caught up in the fridge situation that he nearly jumped ten feet when the elevator doors suddenly whooshed open and a soggy, slightly bloody Alan rushed into the room with the ship crest and a new rifle.

" Wow." Chris raised both eyebrows, " You look like you've had an adventure or two."

" Tell me about it," Alan muttered, " Here, hold out both hands."

Chris did as he was instructed, and Alan dropped the ship-crest into one hand, and Chris's missing gun into the other.

" Thanks," Chris beamed, reloading his Beretta, " And I don't think I've said this before, but thank you for saving me back there. Even if your technique was a bit…unusual. I would've been toast if it wasn't for you."

Alan smiled, and for a moment hid blue-green eyes sparkled with gratitude. 

" I guess that balances it out, then. I would've been toast too if you hadn't saved my bacon from Tyrant."

Chris actually laughed a bit. " Gees, what is it with Weskers and tyrants? Your father had the same problem back at Spencer. After the thrashing he took, I'm very surprised he survived."

Alan cast his eyes downward unhappily. " Yeah, well, I don't think my father worries about tyrants anymore. Heck, he _is_ a tyrant. More or less, in the traditional meaning of the word."

Without a word, Chris turned towards the painting on the door and placed the ship-crest into the indentation. It fit perfectly. There was a metallic ' click ' when the picture was completed.

" Time to look for Claire." He stated, " By the way, nice rifle."

Alan perked up a bit. " You like? " He held it up in proud display, as if to shoot some imaginary bird, " Courtesy of Ash Ashford: the snob I had to beat up for the crest. You know, the guy who was with Alexia? "

Chris opened the door to the Main Systems Computer Center with a frown. " _Another_ Ashford? That can't be good."

" No, for you, I don't suppose it would be." A female voice that Chris recognized all too well announced.

He and Alan spun around to see a quartet of blondes step from the elevator they hadn't even heard open.

" Man, I swear I'm going to look into Miracle Ear! " Alan gasped, beginning to wonder if there really _was_ a problem with his hearing.

" I'm right there with you buddy! " Chris blurted, his face beginning to pale at the sight of Alfred, Alexia, and Ash.

Neither he nor Alan knew the fourth blonde, but she definitely looked like an Ashford. In fact, she looked kind of like Alexia, only younger and without the evil smirk.

Ash gritted his teeth and pointed to the rifle Alan held. " That's mine! " He sounded positively bloodthirsty, and his posture indicated he was ready to lunge out for the attack at any moment like a rabid dog.

Alfred had his sniper rifle cocked and aimed at Alan.

Alexia was smiling wickedly at Chris like a big cat about to pounce.

As for the fourth, Alexis, she just stood her ground, looking like she'd just lost her best friend.

" But I killed you! " Chris pointed to Alexia like he'd just seen a ghost.

Alexia nodded slowly. " Yes, you did. And now I'm going to return the favor! " She flicked her wrist in a rapid motion and sent a blazing fireball hurtling towards him.

Chris dodged through the open Odyssey door and into the main computer room, the fireball missing his head by inches, coming so close it singed some of his dark hair.

" Wait for me! " Alan bolted after him, not the least bit interested in facing down four Ashfords, two of which were armed and dangerous.

The Main Systems Computer System was true to it's name: the whole room was nothing but a giant square of computers lining all four walls and with a big cylindrical computer right in the middle of it all, stretching halfway up to the ceiling. There were monitors, hundreds of tiny TV camera screens showing various rooms all throughout the complex, and thousands of blinking lights all over. 

It really was a shame they didn't have time to stop and look. At the moment, all they wanted was a safe place to hide.

" Would it _kill_ your dad to be here right now? " Chris shouted over his shoulder as he came to the next door. _Where's Wesker when you really need him? Granted, I only need him to distract Alexia…_

" Possibly! " Alan admitted, following Chris's lead out the next door and onto a huge, wobbly metal bridge suspended no less than a hundred feet up in the air in a vast cavern.

The cavern itself was easily big enough to play three games of football in simultaneously, and looked like it had been halted halfway through construction. Huge earthmovers lay desolate and abandoned far below, and several metal bridges just like the one they were on now laced the gaps between numerous suspended platforms. It went without saying that there were plenty of pipes, I-beams, paneling, cords, and a smorgasbord of other supplies and equipment laying around all over the place. The place even had that construction smell of wood and paint, which was a bit weird considering the walls, floor, and ceiling were all pure dirt that had been hollowed out by the earthmover and there was no sign of any painting going on. Whatever room this was going to be, it was obviously still in very early development.

Their particular bridge continued straight for about 150 feet before ending abruptly in an electrical lift descending all the way to the bottom.

It was a wild race for that lift, and somehow Alan managed to get in the lead.

" Cowards! " Alfred called as he, Alexia, and Ash chased after them.

_Right, _Chris thought glumly_, So easy to say when you have Super Psycho #%*$ on your side._

******************************************

Alexis froze inside the main computer room and just watched as her family went chasing after those two poor souls. She couldn't stop them from whatever they were going to do out there, but she _could_ stop them from setting off the triggering system until she was ready. 

__

Great, now all I have to do is **find** the triggering system. She thought anxiously, _And I'm going to have to be quick._

Her eyes swept the room, looking for anything big and/or important.

_There. _

She spied a bank of computers to the right hand side of the wall with a small red label reading _' Triggering System ' _in bold black letters under a blank screen.

Doing her best to ignore the sounds of chaos coming from out the door everyone else had run through, she searched the console until she found the 'on' switch and flicked the monitor on.

**_" Hello, and welcome to the Self Destruct System for your local HCF base! " _**A cheerful female voice said even as the words appeared in white against a blue screen. **_" Before you make that all important decision about blowing this current establishment to smithereens, you must be warned that activating the Triggering System is very dangerous and should only be done in the most extreme of circumstances; for instance, if all the Bio Organic Weapons and/or test subjects get free, or if there is a viral spill, or if it comes to light to the local authorities the true nature of this establishment and they are about to investigate."_**

_This is the craziest thing I've ever heard!_ Alexis thought, totally surprised at such an honest lecture and the cheeriness with which it was dictated, _I can't believe they programmed it to do this! This must be a joke!_

**_" Please click on the appropriate link. And remember, don't mess with the Self Destruct option unless you really mean it! "_**

_Okay, now I've heard everything_. Alexis's eyes flew over the few links, but she was in a hurry so she only noticed and clicked on the _'Triggering System Safety Feature' _link.

The screen changed to show a larger than life size picture of a little metallic screw-like cylinder fissured with lines and indentations and tapering down to a fine wedged point. 

**_" This particular Triggering System is equipped with a built-in safety feature. Removal of this cylinder from the I-5 shaft will prevent the Self-Destruct mechanism from going off no matter how many times you slap, stomp, sit on, or even jump up and down on the little red Self Destruct button. This is especially important, as, once activated, the self-destruct sequence is sadly irreversible. Removal of this cylinder is a very good idea, especially if you don't want to risk being blown up by a thoughtless co-worker who may forget to warn you when they are going to activate the system."_**

" Yeah, that would suck. " Alexis said aloud as she searched for the I-5 shaft the computer had described.

A handy pop-up appeared on the screen of the current terminal with the I-5 shaft highlighted in green. 

" Wow! " Alexis giggled as she found the shaft and removed the cylinder, " The Self-Destruct System For Dummies! What will they think of next? "

**_" I-5 cylinder has been removed." _**The computer voice announced happily, **_" Thank you for using caution! " _**

Alexis stuffed the cylinder into the pocket of her jeans. Now nobody was going to blow this place up without her permission, whether they liked it or not.

***********************************

Alexia threw another fireball at Chris. The S.T.A.R.S. member saw it coming and dodged out of the way, only to trip over a loose cable he hadn't seen in his rush to move and slide over the side of the bridge. Now he was hanging there precariously by his hands from the ledge, hovering right over a hundred-plus foot drop to certain death.

" Crud! " He cursed bitterly. He'd definitely been in better situations.

" Chris! " Alan looked helplessly back at his new friend, but he was unable to do anything about Chris's predicament because he was being chased by Alfred and Ash.

Not to mention the fact that Alexia was closing in on the helpless Redfield.

_It's not like I can just hack my way through all of these Ashfords and come to his rescue, _Alan thought, terrified for his friend's safety, _On the other hand, even if I make it to the lift I'll still have these two losers to deal with. I owe it to him to at least try!_

Alan turned around and was about to try and fight past Alfred and Ash when a huge flapping sound caught the attention of all three.

Flying up in the air almost level with the bridge was a massive creature with huge, leathery wings and the body of a lion. Twin saber fangs gleaming a pearly white jutted from it's mouth, each one almost as long as an arm.

Alexia was so startled that she momentarily forgot about Chris and backed against the wall.

" Chris! Hang in there and…"

But Chris didn't see Claire and Steve riding on the back of the Kiticore. All he saw was this huge monster with red eyes and big teeth, and whatever courage and hope for survival he had drained from his body.

He was so surprised and scared he ended up losing his grip on the metal bar, and down he fell--hearing Claire's voice too late.

In a fantastic aerial maneuver, Kitty swooped down and came up underneath Chris, catching him on her back just between Steve and Claire.

" What the…?!?! " Chris yelped.

" This is impossible! " Alexia snorted, regaining her bearings. She threw fireball after fireball at Kitty, all of which the genetically engineered Kiticore was able to dodge with graceful ease. It even managed to keep it's riders from falling off during these maneuvers. 

Enraged, Alexia turned to Alfred, who was just staring and gaping like an idiot at the scene before him. " This isn't a bloody spectator sport! " She spat, " Shoot it! Shoot _them! _Just shoot _something! _" 

As if wakened from a trance, Alfred raised his sniper rifle and began sniping at the creature.

Ash just stood there, his eyes glued to the drama unfolding before them, and Alan who had more sense about him, used the distraction to reach the lift and head down.

He didn't know where he was going to go or what he was going to do, he just wanted to put as much space between him and anyone with the last name of Ashford as possible.

" I'm beginning to think your years of target practice were wasted, Brother." Alexia growled when Alfred kept missing, " How could you _miss_ something that big? It's like a flying elephant! "

Alfred was too nice to his sister to point out that she wasn't faring any better with her fire. 

" Aarrreeeeeeee!!! " There was a hideous inhuman squeal of pain as some of Alfred's bullets found their mark and hit Kitty in her side and on one of her black wings.

She faltered a bit in the air, and Alexia was able to hit her other wing with a burning ball of fire.

" Aaaareeeeeee!!! Rrreeaeaaaeae!! " Kitty was finding it increasing difficult to stay airborne with all of her pain.

" Kitty! Land! " Claire commanded even as Alfred and Alexia continued their unrelenting rain of fire. Now that Kitty was wounded, and a bit clumsy in the air as a result, more and more of their shots were hitting their target.

" Kitty?! You've got to be kidding me! " Chris spewed, in a total state of shock over the whole thing. _This is crazy! This is insane! This is so much way beyond crazy and insane! _His brain told him, _This is complete madness!_

Kitty glided down to the floor just as Wesker--followed by the few surviving HCF members--spilled into the cavern from a side entrance on the ground.

Wesker had been well aware of what had been going on, what with his increased senses and all. His earlier wounds had completely healed, and now he was ready for a piece of the action. The other HCF personnel were meaningless, and the only use Wesker could figure for them was to help in the fight against the Ashford filth.

Kitty came to a rather rough landing on the ground not more than a hundred feet away from Wesker and team.

Not to be cheated of her prey, Alexia threw herself over the side of the bridge and landed firmly on her feet on the ground after falling more than a hundred feet. 

The fall hadn't even fazed her whereas most people would've broken every bone in their body. 

Chris, Claire, and Steve slid off a bloodied Kitty and studied the spectacle around them.

Wesker and his goons to one side, Alexia to another, and Alfred and Ash were already hurrying down a second lift they'd discovered just after the door that had led them out to the bridge in the first place.

" All right, all reports are in." Chris said wryly, " We are officially screwed! "

************************************************************************


	16. Grande Finale

****

Chapter 16

_Oh great, competition. _Wesker thought bitterly upon Alexia's arrival onto the scene. His eyes glowed red through his shades, and there was no doubt when he spoke it was to her.

" You can kill the others if you want, but Chris is mine." 

Alexia was not convinced. " Yours? He _killed_ me! "

Wesker shrugged, demonstrating that he did not really care.

" So? You want to fight for him? " His voice was light and carefree, as if he were not at all concerned with the concept of fighting Alexia again.

Behind him, what was left of Wesker's team readied their guns, but did not move as they were waiting for their leader to give the order.

Alexia laughed suddenly, surprising everybody. " Did it ever occur to you, brain-trust, that if we fight over him he and the others will have a better chance of escaping both of us? " 

Chris, Steve, and Claire exchanged worried glances.

Kitty mewled in discomfort and began licking the blood from her wounds.

Alfred and Ash had almost made it down the stairs.

Alexis emerged from the computer room and looked down onto the scene below with horrified eyes.

Alan, now on the ground, crouched behind an earthmover just out of sight of prying eyes and readied his rifle, prepared to shoot when necessary. He had a feeling things were about to get very ugly.

Wesker put a finger to his chin, as if mulling it over. But he'd already decided that, no matter what his personal feeling towards Alexia were, she was right about this one. A fight between him and Alexia would work to Chris's advantage, and he couldn't have that, could he?

" What do you propose then? "

Alexia's lips curved into a wicked grin, and she rubbed her white-gloved hands together.

" An all out battle, of course." She purred, " My team against yours. Whoever kills Chris first kills him first. But you and I do not fight each other until he is dead. Wont it be interesting to see who will be quickest? "

" Sounds fair enough to me." Wesker agreed, " Especially since everyone knows that when it comes to speed, you can't hold a candle to me! " In a flash of wild movement, Wesker zipped forth at seemingly supersonic speed and punched Chris in the midsection hard enough to land him on his back in the dirt.

And that is when all Hell broke loose.

The dozen or so HCF members opened fire on Alexia, but the area around her was so hot that their bullets exploded harmlessly in front of her without ever hitting her.

She retaliated by flecking them with blood from her open wrist and watching them burst into flames.

Alfred opened fire on a few of the HCF survivors and proved to be a better shot than he had earlier. He killed two of the dozen in just a few shots, their lifeless bodies dropping to the ground in a bloody mess. _Figures, _He thought, _Sometimes I can shoot a fly off a wall from hundreds of feet away, other times I can shoot 500 rounds in point-blank range and not hit a blasted thing. What is with that?_

Wesker was poised over a fallen Chris and about ready to administer a lethal punch to the face when Claire jumped onto his back and tried to strangle him while Steve kicked him repeatedly in the side.

Wesker barely felt it, but he was more than a little annoyed. He jerked up with blinding speed and threw Claire off as easily as if she were no more than an annoying little rag doll.

Steve was there in an instant and punched Wesker as hard as he could in the jaw. That was not one of his better ideas. He retracted his fist, howling in pain. It had been like hitting a brick wall! Every bone in Steve's hand felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces.

However, that was soon to be the least of his worries. 

Wesker grabbed the young man's arm and twisted it in a direction it was clearly not meant to go with such force it broke with a sickening snap. He pulled Steve closer to him and kicked him so hard he literally went flying several feet away to land in a painful heap next to Ash.

Ash, who had managed to grab a gun from one of his father's kills, shot at Steve and hit him in the leg with a piercing bullet.

" I warned you once! " Alfred's son snapped over the chaos of the battle around them, " Now you die! " He was splattered all over with blood, turning his blue uniform purple in places and looking like he'd just walked out of a slaughter house. Some of the blood was his own. He prepared to shoot Steve again.

But his actions had not escaped the sharp eye of Alexis.

" Ash! " Alexis yelled so loud that almost everyone in the room looked up for a second, including Ash.

It wasn't much time, but Steve used it to his advantage and sprang up to tackle Ash, hitting with his one good arm. But he did notice that the pain in his other arm was starting to slowly subside, and he swore he could almost hear the bones knitting back together. One of the perks to super-fast healing.

Meanwhile, not so far off from where that was taking place, Wesker had Claire by the throat. He yanked her to eye-level with him, watching with pleasure as she twitched helplessly in his grasp.

" We've had a couple of run-ins by chance, even talked a bit briefly. That's not going to stop me from ripping your bloody heart out! "

Claire kicked Wesker with all the strength she had, but it did no good.

Attempting to hurt Wesker with only your arms and legs as weapons was a lot like beating on an armored tank, no matter how good of shape you were in.

With no thought for his own safety, Chris spun and kicked Wesker in the back. He might as well have kicked a concrete block.

_$%#*! He's so strong! So terribly strong! _Chris had no more time to think of the matter, however, as Alexia came up out of nowhere and smacked him sprawling clear into a pile of pipes laying on the ground more than 50 feet away.

She was so close to Wesker that she could've reached out and touched him.

Unfortunately for Chris, Alexia wasn't after Wesker, she was after _him_. 

Chris sprang to his feet and pulled his magnum, frowning with disgust. _Only two bullets left, what was I thinking? _He fired both shots into Alexia. The Ashford didn't even falter in her stride.

Alexia made clicking, tsk-tsk sounds, mocking him. " Still trying the magnum? " She shook her head in disdain, " You're going to need more than that."

_She's right. Last time I needed a linear launcher. _Chris pocketed the empty magnum and briefly wondered how many handgun bullets it would take to bring Alexia down. He shook the idea from his head as soon as it entered. _Way, way too many. _

Instead, he grabbed a three-foot metal pipe from the pile he'd landed next to, thinking all the while how incredibly lame it was. It hadn't worked on Wesker, it wouldn't work on Alexia. Still, he liked the feel of it in his hands. The mere touch of it was oddly comforting. Not that he had any plans to attack Alexia with it. Quite the contrary. He planned to run away like Brad Vickers and only use it if he had to.

At the other end of the room, Wesker threw Claire to the ground and was about to stomp her face with his boot heel when Alan dashed from his most recent hiding place and hurtled into him, throwing all his weight into a colossal body-slam that knocked his father off balance. 

He'd been hiding ever since the fray had began, watching out for his friends and prepared to help. He wasn't about to let Claire get killed.

Claire scuttled free and tore off to help Steve who was engaged in a vicious brawl with Ash.

Alfred closed in on Steve, laughing in that high-pitched voice everyone had come to know and hate. " You fight like a woman! "

" At least I don't dress like one! " Steve retorted as he broke free of Ash, dropped to the ground into a roll, and spun almost between Alfred's legs at just the right angle to kick him up in a very private place.

Alfred shut his eyes and made a face like he'd just sucked on a sour candy that was much too sour. He fell over backwards, dropping his sniper-rifle.

Claire grabbed it before Ash could and smacked the younger Ashford in the side of the face with it.

Ash staggered backwards as if drunk, a dark red welt forming on the side of his jaw. He only narrowly avoided being walloped over the head again by and angry Claire.

" Hey! You're not supposed to use it as a club! " He protested, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

" Oh, thank you for reminding me! " Claire's smile was nothing short of murderous as she pointed the firearm at Ash.

Alfred, seeing Ash's plight, lunged past Steve and grabbed Claire by the ponytail. He yanked down hard.

Claire let out a piercing shriek and fell backwards.

Steve tackled Alfred, and within milliseconds all three were fighting and cursing in a vicious tangle.

The sniper-rifle fell to the ground where it was retrieved by Ash.

In another area of the cavern, Wesker knocked his son aside with the back of his hand. " Stay out of my way! " He warned, his voice raspy and dangerous, " Next time I wont be as gentle! " 

His sunglasses had fallen off somewhere in the fray, and Alan found himself once more looking into those strange red and yellow slitted eyes.

Seeing that Alexia was about to get to Chris before he could, Wesker started in that direction and was stopped when one of his own teammates for some reason crossed his path, slowing him down.

Wesker grabbed his subordinate by the throat. " Now listen here, I have a Redfield to kill, and I can't have you blundering around in my way." He said, sounding entirely reasonable, just before he snapped the guy's neck.

By now, all the other HCF survivors save four were already dead. These four moved in on the Alfred-Claire-Steve-Ash fight, smart enough to know better than to get in the way between Wesker, Alexia, and Chris.

Knowing his chance for survival depended greatly on Wesker and Alexia not being able to get their hands on him, Chris darted behind a huge CAT earthmover. This just happened to be the same one Kitty had retreated behind when the fight had begun, and now the wounded Kiticore--disoriented and confused--ran out from behind the huge yellow piece of machinery.

" I thought they said that thing was supposed to be vicious! " Wesker scoffed at the sight of Kitty running out into the open like a scared puppy with it's tail between it's legs.

Alexia ignored it altogether and leapt up onto the roof of the CAT in a single bound. " Didn't think you could hide from me that easily, did you? "

Seconds later, she was joined on the roof by Wesker.

Chris couldn't believe his bad luck. " I thought you two hated each other! " He blurted in a last desperate attempt to get the two to focus more on each other than him. Chris's two worst enemies turned and glared at each other, but only briefly before returning their attention to Chris.

" We do, we just happen to hate _you_ a little more." Wesker's grin was about as evil as they came. " What do you say, Alexia? Let's toast this freak! "

Alexia nodded and threw her blood all over the ground around an offended Chris.

" Freak?! Look who's talking! I'm not the one with the weird eyes or the fire-blood! " He darted over Alexia's spilled blood just before it burst into flame, " And while we're on the subject, since when does it take two super-beings to take down a normal S.T.A.R.S. member? " If he had to die, he wasn't going to allow them the luxury of seeing his fear.

_That way, whenever the Raccoon S.T.A.R.S. are mentioned in the future, at least I'll be held in higher regard than Brad. At least they'll be able to say, 'Yeah, that Chris, he went out fighting. Looked Death straight in the eye and laughed.' Well, maybe not laughed, _Chris thought as an afterthought, _because then everyone would think I was completely insane like Alfred over there._

Wesker suddenly launched himself into the air as if trying to fly and pulled another of his trademark diving-punches.

Chris missed this one by inches. Only this time, there wasn't a load of I-beams hanging overhead and waiting to fall if someone jerked the pulley. There were I-beams around, sure. Tons of them. On the ground.

Alexia leapt down more gracefully than Wesker and picked one of the heavy I-beams up as easily as if it were made of paper.

Then she threw it. Straight at Chris.

The S.T.A.R.S. member spun around on his heel and dived to the side, missing the I-beam by a comfortable margin. However, he was feeling anything but comfortable at the moment. 

No matter how he looked at it, it was just not fun--or safe--to fight foes that could hurl hundreds of pounds of steel at you with their bare hands. There was no doubt in his mind what would have happened if that I-beam would have hit him. You didn't just walk away from something like that. Well, not if you were normal, anyway.

Suddenly, for no apparent reason, Alexia snapped her head to the side like she had whiplash to study a brawl between Alfred, Ash, Alan, Steve, Claire, and what was left of HCF. Her gaze seemed to be especially focused on her brother, and now the twins were looking straight at each other with such an inflection that Chris wondered if the two were actually communicating telepathically. She looked to Chris, then back to the fight as if she were having a hard time making up her mind about something. Something decided her, and she dashed off, leaving Chris alone to deal with Wesker.

While all this was happening, Alexis was watching from above on the bridge and making some decisions. From what she could tell, this Wesker guy was pretty powerful, as was, apparently, her mother. Both had super-strength , and both seemed to have a killer urge to well…um...kill. This was one fight that Alexis felt totally divided on.

On one hand, she had her friend Steve and all of his friends. She didn't like seeing him or innocent people get hurt or killed by her ruthless family.

On the other hand, she didn't want to see her family hurt or killed either. Because, despite the fact that they were evil, despite the fact that they were cold hearted killers who had done many horrible things, and despite the fact that they obviously couldn't love her in return, Alexis still loved her family. 

_Is it wishful thinking, then that I might be able to help them? That I might reach out a hand and help pull them out of the dark Hell they have surrounded themselves with? Can I show them the light? Can I teach them to feel, to care? _The more Alexis thought about it, the more she decided that she should at least try. Not openly, of course, and she definitely didn't want to live with them. 

It would be a daunting challenge, she knew, and one that could take years to accomplish. But in the end, she just knew that was her purpose, one of her reasons for existing. Everything about it just felt so right. _Where's the line between good and evil anyway? Sometimes the lines are blurred. Sometimes the rules aren't clear. Sometimes a person in a darker area may be able to move to a lighter one, perhaps without even realizing they are doing it. If given just the right nudge. All evil is rooted in good intentions._

Alexis remembered hearing that somewhere, and she believed it to be true. Some people tried to do all the right things in all the wrong ways. 

All evil was just goodness warped, Alexis believed. Twisted, so to speak. And anything twisted could be untwisted to it's original shape, couldn't it? All she had to do was find the original intention somehow, and…..

__

She didn't know what would come next. She didn't even know when she'd see her family again to be able to try. And she didn't want to live with them, so how was she going to help them? The answer wasn't clear. 

But right now, she knew, as the battle roared on below, she had to stop this fight or she might not have to worry about it any longer.

__

She reached a hand into her pocket and twined her fingers around the cylinder, an idea occurring to her. Everyone still alive was right down under her, battling for their lives. And they probably weren't far from emergency escape routes…Alexis slapped a hand to her forehead, suddenly feeling very stupid for taking the Self-Destruct cylinder. 

If she were to activate the system, everyone would be forced to stop fighting. They'd be forced to flee to the hangar where planes were in plentiful supply. They would be able to escape. Nothing else mattered at the moment, just one step at a time.

Turning around, she tried the door she had just come through and grimaced upon finding it locked. How the heck had that happened? She banged against the door for a moment before spotting another one, almost hidden from view by it's superb camouflage job. 

This door came open with ease, and Alexis raced into the adjoining room, determined to find another way to access the computer room.

******************************************************

Chris wanted to shout, to warn his sister and friend what was coming, but he never got the chance. Wesker shot into him like a bullet and ripped the pipe from his hand. Chris reached for the only other weapon he had--the Beretta-- and was stopped when Wesker hopped back like a well-trained fighter and executed a perfect kick to his chest, sending him down.

_He's toying with me. _Chris thought, terrified when it hit home. He had no doubt whatsoever that Wesker could've sent his ribs crashing through his heart with that kick if he would've put more effort into it.

As it was, he felt like he'd cracked a few ribs, but nothing more.

The wind had been completely knocked out of him and he couldn't move. However, that would only last a few seconds.

If he lived that long.

Wesker's grin reminded Chris of an evil jack-o-lantern. " No more playing around, Chris," He cackled evilly, " Now you die! "

" Yeah, like I haven't heard _that_ one before." Chris said out of nervous reflex. Wesker was going to kill him anyway, what did he have to lose? 

Even though he knew it would be useless, Chris tried to get up, to move away from Wesker--anything. 

It didn't work.

Wesker hit him across the stomach with the pipe so hard he fell back down, barely stifling a cry. Then his ex-captain rammed the three-inch circumference steel pipe right through his lower stomach like a spear.

This time Chris couldn't hold back the intense screams of agony that escaped his throat.

The pipe had literally went right through one side and out the other--where it continued for a few inches into the dirt--pinning him to the ground in a rapidly-forming pool of blood.

Chris was so caught up in the most excruciating pain that he had ever experienced that he did not notice Wesker pull a very sharp bowie knife from a hidden sheath in his boot.

Wesker had almost never been more satisfied than he was right at that moment. He was finally going to get his revenge on that imbecile who had ruined his plans and made him appear incompetent in the eyes of others.

On some level, it was safe to say he was jealous of Chris. Jealous of the way the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. had bonded so quickly with the Redfield, jealous of the fact that Chris had such a tight circle of true friends. 

But Chris's most recent crime was by far the worst in Wesker's eyes.

The ever-so-popular Chris Redfield had managed to turn Wesker's own son against him. And that deserved so much more than death.

Wesker raised the knife, prepared to gut Chris like a fish.

And he would have, too, if Alfred had not gone flying into him just then like a quarterback making a tackle.

Now, if Wesker knew in advance that someone was going to lunge into him, he could brace himself and not be moved an inch.

However, Alfred caught him side-on and unprepared, and Wesker--dropping his knife in surprise--was knocked into a huge upright steel beam several feet in width and length, that supported the upper levels of construction. The knife landed a few feet away from Chris.

Alan and Claire--the reason Alfred had taken his life-saving dive in the first place--looked over to Chris and were horrified by the sight of the metal pipe sticking out of his body.

Claire was by her brother's side in a speed that rivaled Wesker's.

_Ohmigodohmigodohmigod!! _She thought, terrified she might lose him. " Alan! I could use some help! "

As if wakened from a trance, Alan raced over to Chris and Claire and put his hands just over Claire's on the pipe.

Ash saw his enemies weren't watching their backs, and used this opportunity to sneak up behind them. He snatched Wesker's fallen knife off the ground and moved right behind them, intending to strike once he was in range. 

" One, two, three! " Alan and Claire yanked upward, freeing the pipe of it's fleshy sheath and unwittingly hitting Ash in the head with it, nearly giving him a concussion. 

Dazed--and knocked halfway senseless--Ash dropped the knife and fell to his face on the ground like a drunkard. 

His intended victims never noticed he was even there. 

Alan tossed the bloody pipe over his shoulder without looking and examined Chris's wound. Once the pipe was removed, the blood had just started gushing, increasing their worries.

Not only that, but an infernal buzzing pierced the air in almost deafening loudness. **_" I am sorry to inform you that the Self-Destruct Sequence has been activated. This is irreversible, so don't even think about it. You have exactly seven minutes…no, make that six minutes and fifty-two seconds…to get the heck outta here before every facility on this entire island explodes with you with it, so you'd better start running! Have a nice day! " _**The cool female computer voice sounded so calm and ironically sardonic. Who the heck was going to have a nice day after hearing _that_ type of a warning?

Paying the blaring siren as well as the strangest self-destruct warning she had ever heard little attention, Claire turned to Alan, tears rolling down her cheeks. " He's going to bleed to death! We have to do something! "

" What can I do? " Alan said, his voice choked with worry and fear, " I'm no medic! When it comes to medicine, I only know what my mom knows, which , frankly, isn't much unless you're interested in the potent healing powers of certain herbal teas! "

" We don't have time for tea! " Claire pointed out.

" Obviously! " Alan remarked, " Whatever gave you that idea? "

Not 70 feet away, it finally clicked with Alexia that she was only fighting Steve like some type of an idiot. In fact, all the HCF members had already been killed, and now this Burnside character was the only non-family member in this side of the cavern. Her patience tested to it's limit, she grabbed the young man by his throat and tossed him into the side of a CAT machine before returning her attention to more important matters.

Wesker was not happy. He made that perfectly clear when he grabbed Alfred by the back of the neck and slammed him against the steel pillar before tossing him up into the air and kicking him like a soccer ball in Alexia's general direction.

He was more than just mad, he was furious.

But Alexia had been closer to the Claire-Chris-Alan drama and snatched Claire's arm painfully' digging her nails deep into the flesh until red, dripping lines started to appear.

Alan had had about enough of seeing people he cared about getting hurt.

Acting on impulse, he found his father's knife laying on the ground, snatched it up, and rammed it up to the hilt in the flesh just below Alexia's neck on the left side of her chest.

It slid in surprisingly easy, Alan had worried at first that it might be like trying to drive a knife through solid metal. For once, he was glad he was wrong.

He pulled Claire free but was unable to save himself when Alexia flew into a fit of rage like some dangerous wounded animal and swatted him to the ground with a fiery hand.

A furious Alexia jerked the knife out of her chest with one hand and incinerated it in her palm, molten metal dripping down her wrist in a silver river. Fire sprang from the areas her blood dropped to the ground.

Before the young Wesker could move, she pounced upon him and twisted his arm at a vicious angle, breaking the bone.

**__**

" Five minutes before you're nuked! If you haven't already, you should really start thinking about escaping the island now. If you can hear this, you don't need Miracle Ear! "

_At least now I know…_Alan's mind was swimming and he really had no idea why he was even thinking about such trivial things just then. His arm hurt badly. So badly he could've swore someone was pounding on it with one of those spiked club thingys.

But Alexia was not through with Alan just yet. She jerked him up by the hair and dashed him against the side of an earthmover parked only a few yards away.

Alan went unconscious upon impact and slumped helplessly to the ground; a result of his head hitting a protruding edge of the machine at an odd angle.

Alexia started walking towards him. 

By this time, Wesker had reached a dying Chris and was easily close enough to stomp his face in with the heel of his boot. 

But he didn't.

He was too busy watching Alexia close in on his son.

**__**

" Four minutes until the big boom. What's wrong with you? Why haven't you left yet? " The computerized voice had been programmed to sound annoyed at this point, like it couldn't believe anyone was still around to hear the countdown.

From down on the ground, Chris stirred. " Are you just going to let her get away with that? " He moaned, barely conscious and fading quickly. 

The question had been addressed to Wesker, and was actually more of a rhetorical question.

At that moment, something rare and wonderful happened.

Wesker's love for his son overrode his hatred for Chris, and he decided that saving Alan's life was more important than ending Chris's.

Forgetting all about the Redfields, and with no thought on his mind other than Alan, Wesker zipped forth and slammed Alexia aside. Savagely, he jumped in front of his fallen son, and the sheer ferocity with which he glared at Alexia with those red and gold cat's eyes made it all too clear to the T-Veronica enhanced Ashford that she would have to kill him to get past him.

" You touch Alan again and I will tear you to pieces." Wesker growled, and he had never sounded so dangerously serious.

Alexia glanced aside for a second and noticed that Alfred and Ash had come out of their daze and were heading out a previously unnoticed staircase leading up into daylight. Probably an emergency escape route activated only on the most extreme circumstances. Telepathically, Alfred was beckoning her to follow them, saying their mission was far too important to waste on other people.

She could hear Alexis coming down the stairs. 

" Fine. Whatever." Alexia said. Of all the things she was rich enough to buy, time was not one of them. She backed away from Wesker and sprinted off after her family. There would be another day to finish this.

Wesker scooped a limp Alan up into his arms, his expression betraying his sadness and desolation.

He looked to Claire, Chris, and even the approaching Steve, and for once there was no hatred in his eyes.

Claire had a sinking feeling she knew why.

At first, she had thought Alan merely knocked unconscious. But now…with all the injuries he had endured, and knowing roughly how hard Alexia was capable of hitting…she honestly could not tell if Alan was even still alive.

And, much as she hated to admit it, Wesker was Alan's best chance of survival of he _was_ still alive.

Without a word, Wesker--still holding Alan--zipped out the way the Ashfords had went and disappeared into the waning daylight.

The buzzing of the self-destruct system brought Claire to her senses. 

" Come on, help me move him." She gestured to Chris and started to lift, Steve joining.

Both were too exhausted to say a word. But Chris was completely unconscious now, and moving him was no easy task.

**__**

" Three minutes until detonation. If you can hear this, you are most likely either a zombie or about to become one." The computer announced with it's usual cheer. 

" Here, let me help." Neither Claire nor Steve had noticed Alexis sneaking up on them. 

The youngest Ashford started to help with Chris.

" But aren't you...? " Claire started, looking at Alexis askance.

" Before you say it, the answer is yes, I'm an Ashford. But I'm a good Ashford, and I don't want to live with my family. I'll tell you all about it when we're not about to be blown to bits, 'kay? "

Nobody said another word or even pressed any farther. 

It was simply too hard to argue with that kinda of logic. 

Besides, now moving Chris wasn't quite so difficult.

************************************************************************


	17. A New Tide

****

Epilogue

The roar of the explosion was deafening. Looking out the window, Claire was able to see the HCF facility's death in all it's hellish glory. Gigantic waves of every shade of red and orange erupted into the late afternoon sky; followed by an enormous plume of black smoke billowing up into mushroom cloud formation as if someone had dropped a nuclear bomb. The whole island seemed to shake with pain.

Up in the purple twilight of the sky, two other aircraft were already appearing in different directions over the horizon.

The Ashfords and Weskers. 

Claire sighed, realizing their Kiticore friend probably had not made it off the island. She tried to tell herself that that wasn't such a bad thing; had Kitty escaped, she probably would've been killed by the first person who saw her and didn't understand she was friendly. Or she might have been captured and forced to tour the world in captivity for the remainder of her days as a freak people would pay money to see. Not the best of lives.

Way up in the front of the plane, obstructed from Claire's view by a metal door, Steve sat in the cockpit.

Being that Chris was out of the question and he was the only other person who knew anything about how to fly a plane, he'd been the obvious choice to get them off the island.

As they flew off towards the mainland, he was doing his best to relax in the comfy pilot's seat.

They'd had a rough day, and he was only thankful everyone had made it out okay. Well, maybe not _everyone_. The bad guys escaping was a major minus, and Steve didn't doubt for a second he'd be dead if not for his healing abilities.

The bones of his arm had knitted back together, his scratches and bruises were rapidly fading, and he had noticed a certain degree of immunity to Alexia's fire.

Something to think about?

Definitely.

But maybe for another day. 

Steve locked the plane on course, set an auto-timer, and relaxed, hoping to catch a few Z's. He'd had enough to think about for today.

********************************************** 

An unconscious Chris lye sprawled on a bar of passenger seats made into a bed between Claire and Alexis. Claire had found some cloths in a compartment in the plane and had used them to fashion a tourniquet around her brother's bloody wound. Now he was resting peacefully, and his breathing was more steady.

It wasn't a permanent fix, but it should last them until they got to the mainland.

Claire turned her gaze to Alexis, sitting a couple of seats to the right and on the other side of Chris, near his feet.

__

My god, she looks a lot like Alexia did in that one film. Claire thought, remembering some of the footage she'd seen at Rockfort.

Though Alexis strongly resembled her mother--which stood to reason, her parents being twins and all--she had a more gentle look about her, and her features weren't quite as sharp.

If the saying that a person's personality reflected on their body was true, Alexis was in good shape.

" So." Claire scooted her back against the side of the plane by the small round window, " You're both good _and_ an Ashford? How did _that_ happen? " It was easy to tell she was in higher spirits by the way her sense of humor was returning.

Alexis twirled a lock of her straw-blonde hair around her finger. 

" Well, you see, I never was raised around my parents. My mother didn't love me enough to stay with me, and my father never visited. I only saw him a couple of times. The sad truth is, they don't love me. They may feel a distanced affection, but it's not love. How could it be? They can't even love themselves. They are cruel murderers who thrive off of the pain of others. And they wanted me to live with them now that Mom returned. Cam you believe it? They just wanted to pry me away from the family they'd already established for me, the family I'd grew up with all my life who cared for me and loved me, and it wasn't even a choice. I can't live like that. I can't live the way they do…with so much hate in my heart." 

The ghosts of tears started trickling down Alexis's cheeks .

Claire could tell she was trying hard to keep them back, and her heart went out to the young Ashford. Alexis hadn't chosen this. She hadn't chosen any of it. And it wasn't fair, she didn't deserve it.

" What about your brother? " Claire asked, curious.

" What about him? " Alexis sobbed, " They've already poisoned his mind. He thinks it is fun to kill. He attacked my best friend, and he didn't even have a reason. He's not like me. None of them are. They don't understand! I want to help them, but I don't know how! " She kept wiping at her face while she was saying all of this, and her voice was shaky, like she was on the verge of bursting into tears completely--which, Claire supposed, she was.

Without even thinking about it, Claire stroked Chris's soft, dark-brown hair, an action which somehow seemed to wake him up.

The first thing Chris was aware of was the pain. Oh yes, still a lot of pain.

He remembered Wesker ramming a pipe into his guts. Yep. That would do it.

Then he was aware of vibration, as if he were laying down in something moving.

He opened his eyes, and, naturally, the first thing he saw was Alexis.

Alexis must've sensed he was about to do something, for she said, " Hold on! Calm down! I'm a _good _Ashford! I'm not Alexia. I repeat, _not_ Alexia! "

Chris relaxed a bit, seeing that it was indeed not Alexia, not one of his enemies. He reached up weakly and gave Claire's hand a gentle squeeze.

Claire smiled, relieved. " You're awake."

It was Chris's turn to smile in spite of his pain. " Yeah."

Claire gestured to Alexis. " That's Alexis. She's the daughter of Alfred and Alexia. She…she helped us save you when you were unconscious."

Alexis held up a hand and waved a few fingers. " Hi. I'm not evil, in case you can't already tell. Don't worry about me. You should rest."

But Chris's mind was not ready to rest just yet. " Who all is here with us? Who's flying this? "

" Steve." Claire answered staley, " It's just you, me, Alexis, and Steve."

" Steve can fly a plane? "

Claire but her lip, unsure how to answer. " Um…sort of. Well, he can keep one in the air, anyway. We would've asked you, but you were…well, you know. The island exploded. That HCF base is ancient history."

Chris frowned. " What happened to Alan? "

Claire looked away, uncomfortable. " Do you remember? " 

Chris shook his head. " All I remember was that he protected you when I couldn't. And Alexia hurt him…oh my god, what happened? "

Claire rubbed a hand over her face, desperately wishing she knew. " Wesker protected him. He told Alexia that if she touched Alan again, he'd rip her to pieces. Alexia and the other Ashfords ran off after that. Only…I think it may have been too late. I was watching when Wesker picked him up. Alan looked like he could've been dead. Wesker looked so sad. He took Alan and ran off. We know that he escaped because we saw two other planes take off, going separate directions.

" So Alan's…dead? " Chris stammered, horrified by the concept.

Claire shook her head slowly, her emotional pain registering onto her face. " We don't know for sure. Maybe, maybe not. Either way, his father has him now. And regardless about how we personally feel about that, it's probably the safest place for him to be at the moment.

Chris sighed, hurt. " I hope he's okay. He was decent. Helped me out of a few binds. Saved me from his own father not once, but _twice_."

Claire nodded her agreement. " Poor guy. His friends and family get along like Capulets and Montagues." At the blank stares, she said, " Romeo and Juliet? Am I the only one who had to study that in school? "

Alexis frowned. " I'm not even finished with school. Both of my parents were really smart, but I'm just average. I can't skip grades or anything. And I'm certainly not a prodigy."

" Where do you live? " Claire asked.

" Well, I was hoping maybe I could stay with you."

Both Redfields' jaws dropped.

" But…what about your caretakers? Don't you already have a home? "

Alexis shook her head. " No. Not anymore. My parents might want me back. If I continue to live where I've been living, I'll just be putting my caretakers in danger. I don't want that for them. I'm afraid my parents would kill them to take me. And I don't think it's fun to watch people getting their heads chopped off at the guillotine like my dad does. He told me he was going to show me all his torture devices. I could live without knowing. And let's not forget what happened to my grandpa. I would never feel safe living with people who had turned on their own father. Who's to say they wouldn't turn on me? "

" But Alexis, you barely know us! " Chris objected, shocked at the idea of living with Alexia's daughter.

Alexis gave a bit of a smile, seeming so terribly young just then. " I know enough to know I like you. You two are close to each other, like my parents are. You..."

Both Chris and Claire jerked away from each other with lightning speed, their expressions a comical mix of both shock and disgust.

Alexis slapped a hand to her face. " Eu! Bad comparison! What with you two being brother and sister and all, and my parents also being brother and sister. I didn't mean to imply that you two were rednecks or anything."

Claire cocked an eyebrow. " Redneck? "

Alexis nodded. " Yeah. You know, if your family tree doesn't branch out--which mine doesn't--or if you go to a family reunion to pick up a date. Rednecks. Jeff Foxworthy. Ever heard of him? " At the blank stares, she went on, " Nevermind. I can see that you have no idea who I'm talking about."

Chris and Claire exchange thoughtful glances. " I suppose we could." Chris said at last, " I mean, if your caretakers would allow it. I don't blame you for not wanting to be around your family." 

Alexis nodded, overjoyed. " I'm sure they will! Especially now that my parent are back. I think they're a little afraid of them. All you'll have to do is sign a few papers. We don't do everything strictly legal, you see, so you wont have to be evaluated or anything. It'll be really quick. "

Claire nodded. " It'll be a bit of a financial strain for a while, but I think we can manage."

Alexis suddenly burst into laughter.

" What? " Chris and Claire asked in unison.

Alexis waved her hand dismissively, briefly shutting her eyes. " You see, I'm not exactly broke. I'm still an Ashford, among the world's richest families. I do believe I have a small inheritance at hand. I'm too young to be responsible for it now, but I'm sure you could sign for it to be placed in your care when you adopt me. I'd be more than happy to share it with you."

Chris's eyes flashed with excitement. " A small inheritance? How much are we talking? "

Alexis looked thoughtful. " Around ten or twelve million."

" You call that small?! " Claire gasped, unable to believe it.

" Yeah. Compared to how much money my father makes, and the general overall wealth of my family, it's not much at all. However, I could probably start my own business with it if I were old enough…" Alexis stopped mid-sentence at the shock on her new friends' faces. " Come on, Steve tells me both of you have been to one of the Ashford palaces and our Antarctic base to boot. Did it look to you like we were hard up for money? After all, we do _own_ Umbrella. More or less. We're billionaires. Well, _they're_ billionaires," Alexis corrected herself, " I have got to stop putting myself in the same group with them! Once they find out I'm a nice Ashford, they're probably not going to want anything to do with me. They might even disown me. Which means we'd better get the paperwork over with quick."

" Well, we'll see about that after I visit the hospital." Chris agreed, " I can't blame you for not wanting to stay with your family. They do seem pretty…demented. And Alexia, man! Talk about a temper! "

Alexis laughed. " I suppose you're right! She wasn't all hugs and cuddles with me, either. And…" 

Clare turned around and looked out the window, drowning out the talking and occasional laughter of Chris and Alexis, who seemed to be bonding rather well.

Things were starting to look brighter after all. And not just financially.

Her gaze drifted out over the magical image of the ocean at twilight; sunlight glinting off the water. They were passing over a few small islets now, and she watched the waves break and spray their foam all over the rocks.

She felt like kindred spirits with the ocean and the waves just then. 

It was as if they symbolized her life--turmoil, then calm, they chaotic again, but always moving, always changing with the tide. 

Claire smiled just before she drifted off to sleep, knowing her life would never be completely peaceful, just as the ocean was never completely peaceful. For some reason, that made her happy in a way she couldn't describe.

A new tide was coming in.

END


End file.
